


The Boy With Pink Hair

by Trixxster103



Series: The Boy With Pink Hair -verse [1]
Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: AU, Angst, Bisexual Lars, Emotional suffering, F/F, F/M, Future Fic, Hand-wavey Magic, Hurt/Comfort, Multi, Poly Cool Kids mentioned, Rose gets told Off, Stars (Lars & Steven) - Fusion, Time Travel, ambiguous timeline, and punched, feverish dream sequence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-07
Updated: 2017-12-25
Packaged: 2018-11-10 01:28:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 21
Words: 72,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11117028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Trixxster103/pseuds/Trixxster103
Summary: Rose gets one chance to see, but not touch, the future she left for Steven. The rules are simple: twenty four hours only, and no one can see, hear, or touch her and then she must go back to the past and face her consequences. Luckily, there is a pink haired boy to whom the rules don't seem to apply...Future fic that is canon compliant up to Lars' Head.





	1. Prologue: The Decision

Rose had moped for a long hour without respite when she realized The Hourglass would not be accessible for another thirteen years, when the Sea Shrine reached another centennial and reformed. Neither Pearl nor Greg could know about this, and so she had no arms to run to when she realized. And Garnet would definitely not let her do what she was planning. It would fall on her Steven to retrieve it then, if he was ready. Gender had taken a long time to understand in the humans, but when she did she was certain her baby was a boy. Greg had made her pick out a girl’s name too, though, just in case.  

As if in response to that thought, Steven kicked hard, and Rose laughed wearily. It was not long now. A day, maybe two. Rose could feel it in her gem, and she smiled wistfully again. Rose pushed back her thoughts of the birth, she already knew how that would go, and it did not bear thinking about. Better to do what she had come to do, and then seek out her loves for whatever time she had left.

There was one more thing she could try. One crazy last chance left, and wasn’t that always what they were doing? Taking their last chances until there were no more left. The secret store room in the desert was a long trip, especially when she was so very pregnant, but Lion helped, and she made it there before sunset.

When she arrived she carefully dug up a soft pink bubble with a near perfect clear sphere in it. A circular bottle green gemstone, cloudy and imperfect nestled near the top of the sphere. Rose popped the bubble and soft green smoke diffused through the sphere. Aventurine was old, older than Pearl, perhaps as old as the diamonds and just as playful; she would relish the opportunity to use her powers. Aventurines were rare, very rare. Sapphires could see the future shining before them, but Aventurines could reach out and touch the miasma, insert themselves in to observe the future. It was addicting, and they were hard to talk to, becoming irritable and unpredictable when pulled from the flow of Time. Aventurine to open opportunity, they said on Homeworld.

“Yeah, the opportunity to fuck up the future,” Ruby would’ve said had she been there (fuck had been her new favorite word the last time Garnet had been unfused) and Rose ached that she would never actually hear Ruby say it to her. Although amusing, it wasn’t entirely true. The chance was there, but small, Aventurines could observe, like ghosts, but rarely could they push past the flow of Time and change it themselves. Which was a failure in the eyes of Homeworld, since that just made them less useful Sapphires. Most of them had been shattered when the experiment failed.

“Rosey!” came the deep voice from the sphere, Adventurine’s buck tooth smile pulling Rose from her thoughts. It was only her head that materialized in the smoke, as it was hard to maintain any more than that in the smoke of the sphere. “I hope there’s a reason you popped that bubble, I was enjoying watching the humans wage another pointless war five hundred years from now!”

“I need a favor,” Rose laughed.

“Of course you do, no one ever pops by just to have a chat,” Aventurine grumbled good-naturedly, the smile splitting across her face betraying her true mood.

Aventurine liked Rose very much. Rose had given her a choice when she became cracked, and respected her want of peace and solitude, she stuck her on the sphere, bubbled her and let her be at peace as she watched uncountable futures slip by. She’d never get her physical form back, even if Rose’s tears had smoothed over the crack in her gem, but she had her powers still, and that was enough.

“You want to see him, don’t you,” Aventurine continued, just as Rose went to open her mouth. “You want me to take you and see him, since you can’t get to The Hourglass. But it’s dangerous. And you know it might shatter me.”

“Yes,” Rose admitted darkly. “The process of sharing your power with another gem would be difficult if you were whole, but as you are, it almost certainly will be deadly.”

“When you shattered Pink Diamond, the consciousness that was her, disappeared from this time until the next forever.” Rose blanched at the accusation, but did not stop Aventurine. She had been their diamond once, and that counted for something. “When you turn into _him_ , you as Rose, will disappear forever too. But with my powers I will not. I’ve long accepted that I will never get my body back, and so this gem tethers me here. If it is shattered, I am free to settle wherever I may please.”

Rose’s eyes widened, and she felt the weight of the words unsaid between them settle onto her shoulders with all the other burdens she had to bear. “If you want to,” Rose replied in answer to the unspoken question, suddenly unsure with her decision.

“I do.” And the reply was gentle and kind, and so, so tired.

A soft hum escaped Rose’s lips, a simple tune Greg strummed on his guitar from time to time mixing with one of Pearl’s formless songs she liked to make up while she worked. It was a long moment before Aventurine joined in; she’d been inside herself so long that she had nearly forgotten how to make a tune.

As the stars above the cold desert shone down on them, they weaved a song of mourning. For the gems they would leave behind, and for the things they would never see, and most importantly, for themselves. Rose had been ready for a while to die for Steven, but underneath the moonless sky she wept again, and faintly felt her son kick in agreement. And in her arms, Aventurine just watched with eyes older than any civilization upon the planet they called home.  

 

 

The instructions were simple, and the rules, only three. One: she could choose any amount of years into the future she wanted, but that was about as accurate as it got. Two: she would be as a ghost, unable to touch or talk or interact with the people she saw in any way. She could only watch. And three: Aventurine could only give her twenty four hours, and in exchange she needed twenty-four hours of Rose’s most precious memories. Memories tied to strong feelings can be used almost like energy, the little green gem had explained.

And that had been the catch Rose was waiting for. Her stomach felt tight, and Steven kicked again, perhaps mad that her greatest concern was lost memories, compared to the possible death of Aventurine. There was no evidence of what happened after shattering, but that didn’t convince Rose any more that Aventurine might actually survive like she thought she would. But she’d be gone, and it would just be another problem, another secret that she was running away from.

Aventurine was kind enough to let Rose savor the memories for as long as she could after she picked them out, because of course she would take that selfish chance, however slim, to replace that twenty four hours she was losing with a new twenty four hours, that might include her son, and all of her friends.

Though Rose was thankful for just how many memories she held precious (she wouldn’t have to give them all, thank goodness), the sacrifice necessary shook her confidence in _something_ after death. But she pushed away the trepidation that it might be a mistake and _chose,_ chose like she had been doing since she got to their little planet.

Rose doled them out in equal measure. For Pearl it was the hours she spent sword training, the hours they took to form Rainbow Quartz for the first time and kisses snuck under moonlight. For Greg it was their first real dance, when his eyes sparkled and he saw her properly for the first time since they’d met, and it was the time after that they talked and laughed and understood. For Garnet it was watching Pearl take her arm and guide her while she learned to walk properly, and when she learned to fight. It was Sapphire making Ruby laugh so hard milk came out her nose the one time Rose had insisted they double date with her and Greg. Then Amethyst, finding her at the Kindergarten, and Pearl trying to brush her hair and teach her manners when all she wanted to do was play and have fun. There were a few of Bismuth scattered in there too, most importantly, one with Garnet hanging off her arm, Pearl atop her shoulders, all of them shouting and celebrating because they won a battle and by the diamonds were they going to celebrate.  

And then there was nothing left to do but follow Aventurine’s final instruction: smash the sphere and swallow her gem. In the blinding flash that would come on Steven’s birth Aventurine would take the memories Rose had chosen, and use the energy to take Rose elsewhere in the split seconds before her death into someone new. She would get her twenty four hours in the future, and then she would return with them to face whatever came ‘after.’


	2. Twinning

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Rose arrives in the future, and Lars tells it like it is.

Popping into sudden existence in bright afternoon sunlight was a great way to pretend that the screaming and crying she’d just left hadn’t happened. Rose chose twenty years, it was a nice round number, Steven would be a young man and the same age Greg had been when she met him. Rose didn’t have time to look around her before Aventurine’s giggling voice was in her ear.

“Well, here we are Rosey. Twenty years later. It’s almost noon here now, so you have until noon tomorrow. I’ll get you a nice little body to hang around in, because otherwise your consciousness might just explode everywhere if it isn’t contained! That means you’ll have to walk on the ground of course, but gravity will still be bendable. And rule two still applies.”

Rose nodded. Or at least it felt like she nodded. Everything she could see was suddenly diffused with a sharp green glow, and Rose felt herself stretched and pinched and shoved until everything snapped into place, and her feet thudded to the ground. Opening new eyes, Rose rushed to take in her body, aware implicitly that it was not the same as the one she left with.

“Sorry,” Aventurine muttered seriously, from somewhere behind her. “You left your body behind in the past, and with my powers being the way they are, I had to make you a body loosely based on the nearest human.” 

The Big Donut (Rose was so glad it was still there) was only a few feet away and so Rose rushed to the window to take in her new reflection. A long, lanky _boy_ stood staring back at her. Rose tittered, feeling the flat chest that belonged to her and then even lower, Aventurine politely averting her eyes while she made her own body.

Rose frowned a little, she was so tall and lean, all awkward limbs and spidery motion. On Pearl it looked wonderful, but Rose wasn’t sure how much she liked it for herself. “Aventurine, dear, do you think…?”

“I can change the clothes, but the hair will have to stay as it is. Hair’s tricky.” Aventurine replied, still working on her own form.

Rose decided she could live with that. Aventurine had kept its wonderful pink color anyways, though the style was short and shaggy and threated to spill over her eyes if she didn’t push it back behind her ears. Something Amethyst would’ve liked, Rose realized somberly.

Pushing the dark feelings back, as usual, Rose whispered to Aventurine what she wanted, patient as the other gem changed both their forms. Rose ended up with silver tinted aviators, for Garnet, a ripped, sleeveless muscle shirt, complete with giant star, for Greg, and shorts with a gauzy skirt over top for Pearl. For herself she kept her feet bare, pleased with her ensemble.

Aventurine, for her part, had shoved her consciousness into the body of a small, blonde girl, dressed far too warm for the weather, but it wasn’t as if she would be seen. Rose was relieved to see the familiar eyes and buck tooth smile present even in the little girl staring up at her.

“Well?” Aventurine asked, as everything settled into place. She quirked a brow at Rose’s outfit; it was not something she would’ve chosen for her on her own, and she worried her bottom lip for a moment. Tension hung in the air between them.

“I love it!” Rose shouted, crushing Aventurine into a hug.

The movement put Rose off balance and she stumbled to recover. When she did she realized her body was halfway through the window of the donut shop, and shivered at her intangibility. It made sense with what Rose knew about ‘ghosts’, but it was not a pleasing sensation. Moving back to normal, Rose put Aventurine down again and searched for the two humans their forms were based on, curious as to their faces.

Another shiver passed through Rose’s body and she looked down to see the human girl Aventurine obviously based her form on running through her and past the Big Donut. The gem in question smiled at her and said, “Well, it’s exactly noon now, and so your twenty four hours begins. I’m going to look for something interesting to do while we’re here.”

Rose was about to protest when Aventurine interrupted her to continue, “I said I’d take you to see the future and I did. Whether you manage to find Steven or not, isn’t my problem. Goodbye, Rose.” And with a skip, she was gone, running after the little human girl she had based her body off of, like a strange hidden twin.

The rest of the street was fairly quiet, though in the distance Rose could make out some people ambling along, but none of them were close enough to be the original owner of the body she was inhabiting.

“Of course I’d have to do all the shit jobs when I got back for the summer,” a grumbling came from nearby, and Rose saw a young man, hands in his pocket, posture sulky and pouting, round the corner from the hidden side of the Big Donut. The boy was nearly her twin, though his hair was soft and curly, like hers had once been, and was a stylish mohawk in contrast to the mess Rose had. He must’ve been just out of her sightline, Rose reasoned as he drew closer. “Most loyal employee, my ass,” he kicked at the dust on the ground, oblivious to his surroundings.

Too surprised to move, Rose tensed, waiting for the strange tingly sensation of him passing through her. It didn’t come. Instead she felt a jolt of pain as he collided with her, both of them knocked to the ground.

They groaned in unison. When they both looked up at the same time their eyes met. Rose’s widened in excitement, and the boy’s narrowed briefly, then relaxed.

“Humans come in pink now?” Rose asked, excitedly, jumping to her feet and pulling the boy with her. She wasted no time in dusting him off gently, examining what she considered to be a very unique appearance.The boy with pink hair had pink skin to match, and Rose was almost disappointed that Aventurine had not given her the same feature. 

“Are you some kind of hippy?” Lars asked taking in Rose’s appearance, as she prowled around him like a hungry cat and did the same. Fascinated by his ears (hers were normal, by contrast) she went to poke a finger through the hole and Lars slapped her hand away, with a yell. “Dude, personal space.”

“Sorry,” Rose answered, eyes starry, wringing her hands and biting her bottom lip. “You’re just such a cute, interesting human and I want to know you better.” She ran a finger up his arm and he shivered.

Lars pushed her finger away with a grimace and accusing sneer. “You only like me because I’m pink.”

“No. I like you because you don’t automatically like me.”

Lars snorted, and finally smiled. “You sound like this guy I know. Anyways, I’m flattered, really but I have a girlfriend. Sadie mah lady.” Lars winked and nodded towards the inside of the Big Donut, where a short blonde girl had just appeared from the back room.

“Why would that be a problem?” Rose asked him, her expression so genuinely confused that it threw Lars off for a good minute.

Lars stared at Rose, mouth twisting in various expressions as he took her in properly for the first time.

“You genuinely don’t get it, do you?” Lars whispered to himself, one hand death gripping his hair as he began to pace. His voice slowly rose until he was yelling. “There’s no way you’re a hippy. I know a bunch of crazy space hippies, and even they understand monogamy! Were you part of some sheltered cult that just got disbanded? And you decided that this crazy place was going to be your first stop after freedom?”

Lars stopped suddenly, clearing his throat and straightening his posture. Then he deflated, confidence suddenly lost, and slouched, one hand rubbing his neck awkwardly. “Being poly isn’t bad, okay? Don’t let people like me tell you you’re less for that. But it’s not for everyone. Heck, it isn’t for most people, me included!”

The look on Rose’s face worried Lars and he continued, voicing crackling just a little, forcing the words out before he lost his confidence. “Being poly takes time and work, and all three or more of you have to be on the same page, and fully open and honest. You have to communicate and make clear boundaries. Otherwise someone is going to be bitter, and you’ll fight and whatever love you had might… die. I know two sets of poly relationships and I’ve had to help them through some ugly fights.”

“Why would someone limit themselves to only loving one person?”

Lars sighed. “It’s just how we’re wired, I guess. Most humans, most gems, love lots of people, but differently. I have one person I love more than anything. And that’s Sadie. I mean I have this other friend who I feel almost as strongly about, who I’m just as comfortable with, but he’s not mine. Not the way Sadie is.”

“You make it sound like you own her!” Rose cried out, tears pricking at the corners of her eyes.

“It’s not like that! I choose to give myself to her! That’s the difference. It’s a choice, a connection that’s so complete and trusting that most people can only have one. It’s complicated, I guess. But neither way is wrong. Just as long as everyone chooses it.” Lars finished quietly, gaze locked with Rose’s. Something about her made it impossible to look away, the depth and intensity in her eyes drowning Lars.  

The spell was broken when Rose broke into ugly hot tears, collapsing to her knees and curling in on herself. Lars gasped and looked away, mind reeling at the sudden fever pitch the conversation had taken. He looked at the hot noon sun, and contemplated that it might be heatstroke, a hallucination brought on by stress and fatigue. He wasn’t supposed to be having emotionally invested conversations with random strangers during the middle of the day! Lars felt his face grow flushed at the sudden embarrassment, and he was once again thankful that it couldn’t be seen past the pink of his skin.

Rose was still crying ugly tears into her hands when he roused himself from the stupor of his thoughts and it took all of Lars willpower to reach his hand across the scant few feet between them and offer comfort. He remembered how to be afraid (he’d gotten so comfortable at school he’d forgotten) and crossed the distance, awkwardly patting Rose’s shaggy locks.

“I know I’m super hot, but you don’t gotta cry so hard. I’m not that great, okay?” Lars joked.

Rose sniffled, swallowed her thick tears, and said, “I just realized that I hurt two very important people to me. And I can never apologize to them.” Lars’ face fell. What was he supposed to do?  

“Look, I’m not good at this comforting shit, but Steven says that donuts make everything better. I work here and get them for free. So, why don’t I get you one?” Lars tried to smile, but he knew it came out ugly and unfriendly. It shouldn’t have mattered. The boy was a stranger and the small part of Lars that he fought with often (and usually won) screamed at him to run away before the boy realized the kind of person he really was.  But Steven would’ve helped, and so would Sadie. Lars hoped they’d be proud that he was trying at least.

The door didn’t ding until Lars went through. Which was odd considering he’d pushed the boy through in front of him. He grumbled, knowing that if it was broken he’d be the one that had to fix it. Sadie looked up from her magazine and smiled for no reason. Lars rolled his eyes and Sadie mirrored him before going back to her magazine. She looked up again when he reached over the counter for a handful of donuts, grabbing a selection for the sobbing boy behind him.

“I’m glad you’re finally eating something,” Sadie said hesitantly, placing her hand on his arm and rubbing soft circles into his skin with her thumb.

“Nah. Everything still tastes like garbage and makes my stomach hurt when I eat it,” Lars muttered. “They’re for him, eating numbs the pain, and all that.” Lars pointed a thumb over his shoulder and Sadie’s face twisted in concern.

“Catch!” Lars smirked, turning to throw a donut at the boy, hoping it would distract him.

“Lars, who are you talking to?” Sadie asked from behind him, as the donut sailed clear through the body of boy, who stopped crying for a moment to shudder.

As he watched the donut hit the floor and roll under one of the freezers to be lost forever he pulled out his phone with a shaky hand and thumbed to his camera app. Ronaldo had told him that ghosts wouldn’t appear on film. He was right.

“Ghost?” Lars asked, voice pitching high and long, as his knees threatened to give out.

When asked about it later, Lars would vehemently deny shrieking and fainting against the display counter. Sadie would neither confirm nor deny it, but the twinkle in her eye was always enough to tell those that knew her well enough what really happened.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another short chapter, hope you guys like it! It's probably not what all of you were expecting, but I had planned on making it twenty years in the future from the get go. I have a rough outline, but the rest is just seeing where the story takes me. I hope the pronouns weren't too confusing for anyone, I wanted to write a fairly omniscient narrator so you can get Lars' thoughts and Rose's, but Rose still uses her, whereas right now Lars still thinks she is a he. Feel free to read and review, next chapter should be out in a week. 
> 
> 06/14/2017: Edited to add a few sentences to make some things clearer and more concise.


	3. Between

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lars wakes up, and makes a decision.

Lars shot up with a start, brain foggy, but screaming. The room was dark and for a second he thought he was back in the little caves on Homeworld, Padparadscha burying her face in his shirt and shaking a minute after the gem soldiers marched by, only just missing their little slice of safety. He caught his breath when he remembered where he was. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light of the back room Lars made out the tall figure of the ‘ghost’ watching him intently from the corner. The ghost’s eyes were red and still damp, though he seemed to have calmed down for the most part.

“You’re still here.” He commented dryly, resting his hands on his knees as he let his breathing return to normal. Lars noticed the fluffy sleeping bag under him and wanted to cry. He remembered when he found it, years ago, stuffed behind ancient dusty boxes and took the first of many illicit naps with it. He’d even covered for Sadie to do the same more than once. It was a miracle that it was still intact after so many years. Lars hadn’t been able to find it in the rubble that was the Big Donut after the battle for Earth. The big boss rebuilt, but there still had been no sign of it anywhere. Sadie would definitely make him work for the story of how she found it and Lars found himself looking forward to it. 

The ghost interrupted his thoughts with a sigh. “You’re the only one that can see me, touch me, hear me. You break the rules. I’m just supposed to watch someone and then leave.”

“Is that someone one of the people you can’t apologize to?”

“No. But I wouldn’t dislike knowing they’re okay too, if I can find them.”

Lars winced as he got to his feet. “So. You’re a ghost that only I can interact with. Heh. Ronnie’s gonna kill me when I tell him!” Lars took a moment to orient himself as he got up, rubbing the back of his head and feeling a slight lump there. He had to have cracked it just right on the display case to cause that kind of damage, since he didn’t get hurt easily anymore, Lars reasoned.

When everything stopped spinning Lars took in the other boy with pink hair and strange clothes again. It wasn’t hard to jump to conclusions, since most weird circumstances Lars found himself in only had one. “This is Gem stuff, isn’t it?” Lars groaned. Why was it always him?

Rose perked up immediately and grabbed Lars’ hands with her own, eyes going starry. “You know the Crystal Gems! You can help me talk to them!”

Lars puckered his lips at her sudden eagerness. “No.”

And then he walked away, plucking his hands out of hers to rummage through the freezer in the back for some ice. When none seemed available he shrugged and pulled out a carton of ice cream to hold against the lump on his head.

“Why not?” Rose whined, struggling not to stamp her feet in irritation.

“Let’s see,” Lars started, holding up his free hand to list things off. “You’re a ghost that I just met, I still don’t know if I like you, and I definitely don’t trust you. We haven’t even exchanged names. I did my helping for the day. Go watch whoever you’re supposed to watch and then scram.” Lars punctuated the last bit of his sentence with a flippant wave of his hand.

“I’m Rose Quartz.”

The carton of ice cream thudded so hard against the floor that the lid popped open, and a bit of already melted ice cream dribbled out. Lars stared uncomprehendingly at the fallen dessert, too lost in thought to care about the mess.

“Absolutely not.” He eventually growled with some venom, shoulders set and arms crossed.

“Why?”

“Liar. Rose died twenty years ago, if she’s been a ghost all this time how come I can only see her now? And you look nothing like her.”

“Time travel is hard. The Aventurine I came with had to base our forms on nearby humans. Like you.”

Lars grimaced at what was supposed to be his body double before continuing. “I’ve never heard of Aventurine. I don’t think that’s a real gem.”

“Please.” Rose asked, desperation tinging her voice. “Please. You have no idea what I sacrificed to get here. I need to see Steven Universe. I only have until noon tomorrow. And it’s already…”

“One o’clock.” Lars supplied for her when she paused, his watch glowing in the darkness.

“Please.” Rose begged again, and Lars was almost convinced she meant it.

“Maybe if you prove to me that you’re actually Rose Quartz.” Lars insinuated icily, and Rose thought she noted an undercurrent of duplicity in the boy’s voice.

Rose was suddenly aware that she might have underestimated this strange pink human. It was rare, but some humans hated the gems just for being themselves and she worried the only person who could see her was one of them. There was something angry in him, angry but sincere. There was the chance that he didn’t hate gems. Just her. She could work with that. And what other choice did she have, really? Aventurine was gone without a trace, and though she probably could find Steven on her own, the boy was her best shot at talking to him.

“Anything you ask.”

Lars took an agonizing five minutes to decide, enjoying watching Rose squirm as he did so. “Fine. Whatever. I didn’t want to be at work anyways today.”

Rose almost cried in relief. “Thank you so much… uh…”

The pause was pregnant. Very pregnant. Lars chuckled. “Lars,” he supplied, crouching down to retrieve the ice cream.

Lars left the ice cream in the trash, shoved his hands in his pockets, and left the back room in a slow, deliberate saunter. He didn’t bother to check if Rose was following him. 

“Lars, you’re awake!” Sadie exclaimed when he opened the door to the main counter. Lars smirked, and held his arms open at his sides. Sadie engulfed him in a hug. “I was going to bring you some ice, but it got busy suddenly. And unlike some people, I actually have to work.”

“Hey, I deserve it. I sprained my butt saving the owner. Not my fault he chose to reward me by letting me just work whenever I want.” Lars waggled his eyebrows at Sadie as her hands wandered lower down his back, spurred on by the lack of customers.

“You can’t sprain your butt,” Sadie teased.

“Well I did. It’s flaring up right now.”

Sadie giggled and leaned up to kiss him, hands still traveling lower as Lars leaned down to meet her.

“Ow!” Lars flinched out of Sadie’s hold when Rose flicked the lump on the back of his head.

“You okay, Lars?” Sadie asked, ready to run for some ice the moment she thought he needed some.

“I’m peachy,” Lars growled through gritted teeth, glaring daggers at Rose. She stuck her tongue out at him and gestured to her wrist, reminding him that they had a time limit.

Lars noticed the hurt look on Sadie’s face and he softened. “I’m okay, Player Two. Really. But I have to go.”

“Why?”

“Steven.” It was an explanation and a promise all rolled in to one. It meant that there was something happening that involved Steven that Lars needed to leave immediately for. It meant he couldn’t tell her, not right away. But it was a promise that he would come back. And then he would tell her in hushed whispers as she helped him bandage his wounds.

“Steven.” Sadie confirmed, and it was a promise on her part too. A promise to wait. A promise to listen. And a promise to just hold him until everything stopped hurting when he got back.

Lars smiled wanly, and took off at a jog. “I love you!” He shouted, stopping before exiting the Big Donut.

“I know,” Sadie shouted back.

Lars rolled his eyes. “Han Solo, really?”

“I love you, too, you big baby. Now go and help Steven!”

And with that Lars burst out into the warm summer sun in a jog. Which lasted for all of a minute when he realized he hadn’t thought of where to go. Rose slammed into his back when he stopped abruptly to actually start thinking things through. A car honked at him and he realized he was standing in the middle of the road. The driver flipped him off as he went past, and Lars hoped the ugly, dirty thing broke down as he was driving it. Lars went over that thought again. A dirty car. Car washes. And who ran the car wash?

Beckoning Rose to follow him, Lars took off into a comfortable walk, already wondering how he was supposed to explain this to Mr. Universe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lars doesn't like Rose very much. He has his reasons. Anyways, this chapter is actually the first half of what was becoming a very long chapter, so I split it in two. Chapter 4 is being difficult, but I wanted to post this chapter anyways. Not sure when I'll be ready to post chapter 4, but it should likely be done in a week at most. Hope you enjoy! Please comment and critique.


	4. A Rock And A Hard Place

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Things do not go well at the car wash.

The walk to the car wash was quiet. Both parties refused to break the silence first, tension simmering like a live wire between them. Rose snapped when, from a distance, she saw who was at the car wash.

“Who is that?” Rose asked, mouth going dry.

“That’s Greg Universe and Pearl of the Crystal Gems. Which you should know, _Rose_ ,” Lars quipped sarcastically.

“I meant the woman with them you… you…” Rose tried to love and see the good in everyone, but Lars was very much testing her patience.

“I won’t help you if you call me names.”

“Fine. Who is that woman with Pearl and Greg, please?”

“Better.” Lars said. “That’s the Mystery Girl, Sheena. She’s like the coolest thirty year old in this town.”

“Cooler than Greg Universe?” Rose asked, genuinely horrified.

“Yeah, way cooler. I would kill to be as cool as her. She rides a sick motorbike, likes cool music _and_ weird music, could probably break me in half if she really tried and she’s a programmer. The only one better at computers than her is Peridot.” Lars’ face lit up as he gushed, and Rose didn’t know what to feel. “I only know her because of Pearl though, so it’s hard to get to hang out with her one on one, though she’s taken Steven and I to a couple of rock shows.”

Rose stopped Lars with a yank of his t-shirt. “Pearl isn’t friends with a human.”

“She is with me. And Connie and Greg. I’m like barely a human, though.”

“But my Pearl –“

“Isn’t yours anymore. She’s dating Sheena. Now who’s the one making it sound like they own someone? Maybe you don’t know her as well as you thought you do, _Rose._ ” Lars didn’t even try to mask the contempt in his voice that time.

“How?” Rose asked in that genuinely confused tone that Lars found hard to ignore.

“Well, we both like cooking but not eating. Drinking is okay though,” Lars started listing things off, slowing starting to walk to the car wash again. “We have like this stupid contest to see who can make certain recipes better. Greg’s been judging. And we’ll text each other recipes and pictures of food we’ve made. We’re also part of the my-girlfriend-is-human-and-will-inevitably-die-long-before-I-do-leaving-me-alone-to-contemplate-the-crushing-weight-of-mortality club. Pearl also taught me to dual wield. And finally, Steven can’t tell when some jackass is just exploiting or taking advantage of him, so her and I both protect him from people like that.”

“I’m his mother!” Rose shouted.

“So you say.”

“What is your problem with me?” Rose asked.

Lars ignored her to take his place in the small close circle that Pearl, Greg and Sheena had made. They were talking quietly, but turned to greet him when they realized who had joined them.

“Lars! When did you get in?” Greg asked, slapping him on the back.

“The night before yesterday. I was back for like an hour before the owner of the Big Donut was at my house with cake, asking if I wanted to work! Said I could come and go as I pleased, but man was he kissing ass –“

Lars’ voice faded to the relative background as Rose took in the scene. Pearl looked the same, though it was obvious she’d been through at least one regeneration in the last twenty years. The oversized star was a surprise, seeming more like something Greg would wear, but it was nice all the same. The most surprising part however, was the plaid shirt she was wearing. It was large on her skinny frame and she’d rolled the sleeves up to her elbows. Pearl had never worn human clothing before when she could just shapeshift clothes or change her form.

“Sorry, Lars, but Pearl’s finally made better pasta than you!”

That was Greg, Rose realized as she watched Pearl color and laugh and then genuinely thank Greg for a compliment. “I might’ve gone a little off recipe,” she explained, bashfully.

“Wild.” Lars laughed.

“Off recipe? Pearl that’s crazy!” Greg joked.

“Sheena, what have you done to her while I’ve been away?” Lars asked.

“Wouldn’t you like to know, Laramie?” Sheena replied with a snort and a wink, and it was clear even to Rose that she was the only one allowed to call him that.

“It’s not that crazy,” Pearl started, and Rose let the familiar tone wash over her. _I can sing_ Pearl had said, and she certainly could. She let the rest of Pearl’s speech fade again, she didn’t need to hear the exact words to understand the beat and rhythm of her Pearl trying to convince someone she was really as cool as she hoped (and she was, but somehow still couldn’t see that everyone already knew that.) It was a strange comfort.

Instead she examined the woman with Pearl. Sheena. She pecked Pearl on the cheek somewhere in the conversation, silencing Pearl’s ranting and the affectionate teasing with one simple gesture. The woman was tall, stocky and had a shock of pink hair that bled black at the roots, but there was left over blue too that reminded Rose of her disastrous attempt at trying hair dye in the 80’s. Something ached in her at the familiarity of the woman (Pearl had always had a type, everyone knew it), but then she noticed the piercings and the way the woman acted and the ache morphed into something warm and happy and proud.

There was never enough time, Rose found, even as a comparatively immortal being. There was not enough time to find out if this Sheena was good enough for her Pearl. She’d just have to trust that she was. And that the two of them were much better than the ‘threesome’ that _they_ had been. Rose drew close to Sheena in her examination, and in doing so, accidentally brushed her hand through Sheena’s head.

The woman shivered, just as Rose did. The glare Lars gave Rose could’ve shattered diamonds. “Are you cold?” Pearl asked, distantly, as Rose backed up from the woman. Pearl started taking off the shirt, but Sheena stopped her, brushing it off as just a bit of cold air or something.

Lars made a risqué joke, and Rose was impressed to see that Pearl actually laughed at it, even as she pretended to scold him for being ‘lewd’. The group laughed, and then the topic changed again. Rose watched, knowing that they were wasting time, but finding it difficult to tear herself away.

“I got Steven the best present!” Lars declared, and Rose struggled to figure out what she had missed in the conversation. He shoved his entire hand into his hair, and Rose gasped. What did it mean if he and Lion were alike? When he pulled it out he was holding a ukulele.

“You fixed it?” Greg asked.

“Yeah, I know I guy at school. Took forever to find all the stupid pieces.”

“Steven’s going to love it,” Pearl said.

“Geez, Pearl don’t cry. That’s Steven’s job.”

Rose listened to the conversation for a little longer, learning that it was Steven’s birthday party soon. When she realized she’d be missing it anyways (it was in two days, even though his actual birthday was that day. It was the only time everyone could get together.) she tuned the conversation out again.

Finally, Rose turned her attention to Greg. The color of his skin made her wince. It looked like the time he’d been sun-burned, except worse. But he didn’t seem to be in pain, and his softer face was laughing. He’d grown softer all over, and the hair on the top of his head was gone. He was old. It jarred tears to Rose’s eyes. Pearl was glowing, radiant and happy, a far cry from how she’d left her twenty years ago. But Greg. Greg was old. And though there were lines of happiness on his face, there was also tiredness. She’d never seen him so tired before. Rose’s knees wobbled.

Lars grew silent as he watched, a seed of irritation that he tried not to nurture planting itself in him. He wanted to be trying to convince Sadie to skip work, or bullshitting with the Cool Kids when they came in for their usual, not dealing with a ghost or potentially anxiety inducing conversations. He’d just gotten back, dammnit! And culinary school wasn’t easy. Didn’t he deserve a few days off before the universe threw something at him again? Didn’t he deserve a few more days where he didn’t have to be brave? But if the ghost wasn’t lying…

Lars sighed, realizing that small talk was over, even if he wanted it to continue. “Greg make sure this is tuned for Steven.” Lars shoved the ukulele into Greg’s confused grasp. “Sheena, I downloaded some weird Korean porn on my phone and now it’s broken, fix it,” Lars garbled out, tossing his phone to a surprised Sheena, who barely managed to catch it. Then Lars grabbed Pearl by the wrist, and pulled her with him around the car wash, throwing a “Please,” behind him for good measure.

“I’m sorry about the pasta, Lars,” Pearl apologized when they made it to the back of the car wash.

“I don’t care that you made better pasta than me!” Lars face-palmed. Diamonds help him, could Pearl be dense sometimes. “This is about Steven.”

“What’s wrong? Is he in danger?” Pearl had her spear out immediately, point uncomfortably close to Lars’ head. He ignored it to grab both of her shoulders.

“Pearl, have you ever heard of a gem called Aventurine?” Lars asked seriously.

Pearl’s spear dissipated as she brought her hand to her chin to think, still trapped by Lars’ hands. “Aventurine’s were created to be the ultimate sapphire, because there was a sapphire that lied once. The diamonds wanted a gem that there could be no doubt about the future with. Aventurine’s could touch the stream of the future and take someone with them. But they often got lost, or enjoyed it so much they never went back. Why stay in the present when the future had so many enticing possibilities? And, according to rumor, one of the diamonds had to see a future she didn’t like. So Aventurine’s stopped being made, and the few that were left were shattered. I haven’t seen one since I…” Pearl trailed off, gesturing with her hands that the sentence could be extrapolated from there.

“Since you served White Diamond. Got it.” Pearl winced at Lar’s bluntness, but didn’t reprimand him. She didn’t like it at all times, but she knew how necessary it was. Lars had no time for bullshit or deflecting when it came to gem things. And while it hurt, well, Pearl knew that human wounds needed water, and air to heal, stinging all the while. Exposing them hurt, but they had to, to heal. And lately, she’d been learning that human things could work for gems too. It also helped that his bluntness had improved their relationship with Steven. “Is there any chance one of them could’ve survived? That Rose could’ve helped her and hidden her away?”

Pearl sighed, and grew wistful, breaking out of Lars’ grasp to wrap her arms around herself in a hug. “It’s a possibility. Just another secret Rose kept from me.” There were no tears at the corner of Pearl’s eyes, and Lars was proud of her. He was prouder still at the touch of anger that suffused Pearl’s tone.

It was Rose’s turn to cry. “Oh, my Pearl. I never wanted to keep secrets from you.” She whispered aloud, longing to hold the smaller gem in her arms and make her smile again.

Lars burned. _Then why did you?_ The words screamed through his body, and he tried to glare them at Rose, tried to make her feel everything he wanted to, but couldn’t, shout at her. He was pretty sure he hated her. Garnet’s voice drifted into his head ‘ _Hate’s a strong feeling, Lars’._ It was one of the few things he ignored her advice on. 

The fire died to embers when he realized the choice he had to make. It was rapidly approaching two thirty in the afternoon (the reason Lars had hated small talk as a child was it eventually turned to big talk, and took forever) and the time to act was getting close at hand.

“Why the sudden interest?” Pearl asked, the unsaid question obvious: _Where did you hear that name?_

Lars knew he could lie to her. It wouldn’t feel right, and it would break his no bullshit policy about gem stuff, but it would be so much easier. It was so tempting. In the end he sighed, throwing himself in recklessly, aggressively.

Lars growled when the words wouldn’t come to him, frustrated at his inability to articulate what he wanted. He scrunched his face, his eyes, his fists and then… nothing. A long, wheezy sigh escaped him. “If you had only one hour to talk to Rose Quartz again, through me, would you do it?” Lars blurted out the first thing that came to his mind, sad and soft, instead of urgent and prodding like he wanted.

To her credit, Pearl only shook a little. She opened her mouth, then closed it, like a fish. Eventually she bit the knuckles of one hand, tears pricking at the corner of her eyes. She squeezed them shut, until she gasped when she broke skin, teal blood hot and sticky as it flowed down her hand. Lars was quick to pull his t-shirt off, thankful for once that he had layered a muscle shirt underneath, and wrapped Pearl’s hand gently in it, holding it with both of his own. She swallowed thickly.

“She’s here with you, isn’t she?”

“I think so. It doesn’t look like her, said the magic was fucked or something. But I think it’s her. I’m the only one that can see, hear or touch her.”

“Don’t tell Peridot, she might try to experiment on you again,” Pearl joked, but her voice was hollow. 

“Pearl.” Lars moved one hand to her arm, squeezing, hoping it was a comfort. “There. Isn’t. Goddamn. Time.” He waited, watching her agonize for several precious seconds.

“No. No, I wouldn’t want to talk to her.” Pearl forced the words through gritted teeth, a single tear snaking its way down her cheek.

That was a shock. He tied the t-shirt loosely and let her hand slip from his own, as she began pacing, voice choked, but steady. “I do want to talk to her. But an hour isn’t enough time. I don’t know if a week would be enough time to even begin to say all the things I want to say to her! I want her to know that I love her, even now. I love Sheena too,” Pearl added in quickly, afraid. “I love her so much. But I was with Rose for thousands of years.”

“I get it, Pearl,” Lars retorted, trying to put as much kindness into the words as he could muster. “Some people you don’t stop loving.”

“But I want her to know that I resent her too. She took Bismuth from us. She kept so many secrets! And… and… she always did what she wanted!” Pearl was yelling now, and Lars couldn’t look away, not even to check and make sure Rose was still there. “Other people wanted things too. I wanted things! I wanted her. I wanted her to only want me.”

“Lars.” Pearl stopped, grabbed Lars in the same hold he had used on her earlier, gaze intense. Lars couldn’t even flinch. “Even in my resentment though, I still love her. I love her properly now.”

Lars hugged her then, so tight it would’ve choked her had she needed to breathe. “You were two very flawed gems, Pearl. And one flawed human. But it’s okay that you love her even through those flaws. ”

“The longer I think about the three of us the more tangled up it becomes. I don’t think it’ll ever really be unravelled. But Rose and I had something in that tangle. It’s not nothing.” Pearl reassured herself. “All three of us were to blame.”

“Yeah, you guys sucked at basic communication.” Lars quipped.

“Is it wrong that I don’t want to talk to her? What’s the human phrase? ‘Let sleeping dogs cry’?”

“Lie. Let sleeping dogs lie.” Lars pushed Pearl away dryly, finished with the hug, and she didn’t begrudge him that.

“I moved on, Lars. I don’t know if I want to become the gem I was when I was grieving again.” Pearl bit her lip, not enough to draw blood, but enough to bruise.

“Yeah, no one deserves that,” Lars said, words stinging. He soothed them with, “Not even you.”

Pearl sniffled, and wiped her eyes with Lars’ shirt. He winced, but said nothing. In the silence that followed Lars was made uncomfortably aware of the passage of time again, having nothing to stare at but the ceaselessly moving second hand of his watch.

“We’re going to talk about this more,” Lars told her, and Pearl managed a nod. “Next time we cook together. I think it’s finally time for me to teach you how to make an ube roll.” Steven would be pleased, Lars knew. He was constantly asking about the pastry when Lars was away in culinary school, but so far no one else’s attempts had even come close to edible.

As Rose watched, she felt her guts twist into a knot and clutched at her stomach weakly, casting her gaze downwards. After the war she had always done what she wanted, revelling in the freedom she had. Was it so wrong to use the ability to choose to its fullest? To reach out and take everything that had been denied to her in her old life? It struck her that she had always assumed everyone else was doing exactly what they wanted too, that everything was perfect, because they had choices. And yet…. Pearl and Greg definitely weren’t as happy as she thought they had been. The world recontextualized itself for Rose, breaking and reforming with her new knowledge of the people she’d cared about most.

Greg had appeared quietly, without either Lars or Pearl noticing, cradling Steven’s ukulele like it was a second child, right around the time in the conversation when Lars had asked his fateful question.  In the five short years Rose had known Greg she was thankful that she had only seen the look currently on his face a handful of times. Greg was passionate, and showed it in everything he did. Even his anger was passionate, though rarely mean. Rose gulped then as his hands tightened and his jaw set. It was worse when he was quiet and angry.

Pearl mentioned something about Lars talking to Greg too, and he snorted, the two of them finally looking towards the corner of the car wash that he had rounded without them noticing. Rose wished she could grab Pearl and pull her away. She did grab Lars, but he only stiffened and set his jaw as well.

Greg pointedly ignored Lars in favor of Pearl, waking stiffly over to her and then tucking the ukulele under his arm. He pointed to Pearl’s injured hand and she thrust it towards him, confused and completely oblivious to the tension simmering between the two males. When Greg untied the t-shirt to examine her hand he was gentle. Exceedingly gentle. Worryingly gentle.

Lars knew that he and Greg weren’t the best of friends. They were cordial and respected each other, respected that they were good for Steven and Steven was good for them. But they didn’t have much in common and Lars knew they were a few irreconcilable differences between himself and Greg. Lars was open about his sexuality in a way that he knew made Greg uncomfortable – not the bisexual part, it had taken him months to even admit to himself that he liked men too – but in that he wasn’t shy about sex and having it at all. For a long time Lars had assumed Steven was asexual, but eventually figured out that it was merely a product of his fairly sheltered lifestyle. And even though he hadn’t changed Steven – he was still as sweet and innocent seeming as ever in the ways of romance (Connie had always had to make the first move) – it was also no secret that Lars had a stash of nudie mags and porn. He was respectful when it came to his relationship with Sadie, but it’s explicit nature was obvious to even someone as naïve as Steven – Lars made no effort to hide the enormous hickey’s he’d sometimes sport, dark red against his pink skin.

Lars also wasn’t shy about being rude to people that deserved it and he believed that was the main source of friction in their relationship. The last time Kevin had harassed Stevonnie, it had been so bad they had unfused, and Steven was a black cloud of sadness for days. Lars had been one swing of a baseball bat away from vandalizing Kevin’s car when Steven and Greg had stopped him (but that hadn’t kept Lars from noticing the smallest flash of glee in Steven’s eyes at the potential destruction to Kevin’s car).

The final problem came from having no context after the war in which to interact on a deeper level. Lars knew what he was. He was different now, but Greg hadn’t yet had the chance to see, and proving it was harder than Lars liked to admit. He was still himself, still cynical, slightly abrasive, riddled with anxiety and a streak of rebellion, even if he was pink and immortal. Of course Greg had heard about everything Lars had done, but it was different from seeing it. And Lars found it tiring pretending to be wholesome and positive around him all the time. It was easier to give up. As long as Greg didn’t hate him, he was content with being ‘the friend of his son’.

The wounds on Pearl’s hand had already scabbed over when Greg had pulled the t-shirt off, and his eyes had widened. He forgot sometimes how quick the gems were to heal if the wounds weren’t enough to compromise their entire physical form. Nonetheless he examined Pearl’s hand, pulling at the skin gently to make sure it was healing properly, ignoring her confused looks and Lars’ glare. Rose’s hand tightened on his shoulder.

“You wanna talk to your wife… man?” Lars asked. He had caught himself in his rudeness and left out the ‘old’ part that he had been thinking, not wanting to escalate the tension further, but with the way Greg flinched, it was obvious that he noticed anyways.

“Just don’t, Lars,” Greg warned, not evening bothering to turn around to address Lars. “I want us to be friends, so don’t pull this with me.”

Pearl’s confused expression morphed slowly, her eyebrows knitting together as figured out the pieces they were throwing out. “Greg, Rose is here.”

“Are you sure, Pearl? Are you sure Lars wouldn’t lie to you?” Greg shot a withering look to Lars, and he tried not to wilt.

He wouldn’t lie about something like that, make up a story about his friend’s dead mother just for kicks, but he still can’t blame Greg for thinking it. The old Lars might’ve if he thought it would get him the attention he craved. He remembered the moss and cringed internally, feeling guilty for the way he had insulted Rose Quartz without knowing her out of his own twisted emotions, but also angry, because the more he learned about Rose, the less he liked her and the more justified he felt in his initial opinion. And Greg knew all that unfortunately.

“Yes, Greg.” Pearl answered defensively, pulling her hand from his grasp to cross her arms. “The only gems that knew about Aventurines are Rose, myself and maybe Sapphire, though they weren’t ever used in Blue Diamond’s court.”

“He was on Homeworld for months! Maybe he picked it up there!”

Pearl bit her lip, looking suddenly conflicted. “I suppose that is a possibility. A minute possibility.”

“I’m not lying to you Pearl!” Lars snapped. The way she flinched in response hurt him. Their emotions were all too raw for something like this.

“The tape.” Greg said suddenly, meeting Lar’s eyes intensely. “Ask her about the tape for Steven. If she’s really there, she’ll know.”

Rose’s face drained of color, making her even more ghostly than she already was. There was a hazy bit of memory, of a strange device for recording, she remembered remarking how interesting humans continued to get… and then nothing. Was that one of the memories she gave up, Rose wondered. How was she even supposed to know which memories were gone if she didn’t have them anymore.

Lars’ eyes were pleading when he craned his neck to look at her. He wanted Greg to believe him. He tried not to cry when Rose just gave a slow sad shake of her head.

“Lars, there isn’t any porn….” Sheena’s voice died when she rounded the corner completely, the tension painfully obvious. After stopping dead in her tracks she looked sidelong at Pearl who was just barely shaking her head.

“I’m just going to go,” Sheena declared awkwardly, turning on her heel to leave.

Pearl was by her side in a blink of an eye. “Yes, _we’ll_ go. Since Greg is being difficult.” She shot Lars an apologetic look, before casting her eyes to the ground and walking away with a concerned Sheena.

“Pearl!” Greg shouted after her. There was only the faintest echo of his voice in response.  

Lars groaned. How had things gone south so fast? He was just the master of ruining things, wasn’t he? At least he had a justifiable reason to resent Rose now, he realized. Greg was glaring at him again and he felt the man’s patient fury burning him from all sides.

“I’ll just find Steven, he’ll fix this! Do you know where he is?”

“Steven can’t fix you, Lars.” Greg said bitterly, tears threatening to spill from the corner of his eyes. Then he turned himself and left, blocking himself from hearing Lars try in vain to say something back.

Lars sighed, head bowed, feeling broken, and stuffed his hands in his pockets before walking away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for your patience everyone, sorry this chapter is late. I'm going to be honest, this chapter killed me. Not only is it almost 2000 words longer than I hoped it would be, it is also took longer to write than I wanted, and I'm still not completely happy with it. I hope I did a good job conveying Greg's feelings towards Lars, and that Lars, while changed, is still mostly negative, riddled with anxiety and can be kind of mean sometimes. I also hope his friendship with Pearl isn't too unbelievable, if it is, it will be touched on more in the next chapter. I love Lars, because he's like a breath of fresh air in Steven's sometimes sanitized, overly optimistic life and I hope I did a good job showing that. This chapter may be edited more, but I wanted to finally get it out here, and done. Thanks for reading, please leave a comment if you're so inclined!


	5. Don't Go In The Water (Of Your Mind)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Here's Amethyst! And she tells it like it is.

The clean-up crew had done a good job on the dock near the beach, Lars thought. It was almost impossible to tell where the old dock ended and the new one began. But Lars knew, had been there when the dock was destroyed, could trace with his fingers the scar line that represented before and after. It had been enough months since he had last sat under the dock, pants rolled up to stay dry, the spray of saltwater a delicious tang in his mouth, (a taste he could enjoy without worrying about swallowing or digesting) that the little spot he’d made for himself had been slowly eroded by the tides. And filled with a layer of litter that disgusted Lars.

He spent some time cleaning, venting to himself his frustration with tourists, piling all the litter in one spot for later disposal, the action automatic and comforting. Rose wisely hung back and watched, unspeaking in the face of his roiling emotions. When he was finished, he sat in the slightly damp sand, suddenly unsure what to do with himself. He had no normal vices – even before he was pink he’d hated smoking, it made him cough and filled his nights with terrors and paralysis, and drinking was out the question when it took an entire six pack to even begin to have the slightest effect. His new body metabolized drinks quickly. The magazines he’d rolled up and hidden in the various knotholes of the dock had either been stolen or eroded by the sea water, and he slapped his head with his hands when he realized that not only had he left his shirt behind, but Sheena still had his phone.

Lars rubbed his cheeks with his hands, and then moved them to shove his palms into his eyes. He didn’t want to cry. The static in his head pounded in time with the gentle sea water lapping only a couple feet away from him. It wouldn’t be long before the tide came in. With a broken sigh, he removed his shoes and socks, placing them neatly next to his garbage pile, rolled up his pants and crossed his legs, and placed his hands together the way Garnet had showed him.

The first time she had dragged him (literally) off to meditate with her he had resisted, and he colored even years later to think of the childish tantrum he threw. But she was patient, more patient than Lars thought he deserved and, when he realized he wasn’t leaving the room until he calmed down, joined her in meditation. The first time he could barely keep his breathing even, and it seemed to do little to help him. But repetition made him better and he grew to appreciate the silence and stillness. For a long time in his life those hours with Garnet had been the only times he’d known true stillness, even in his thoughts. They hadn’t meditated together since he went to school, but it was easy to fall back into the motions. That day he breathed in time with the ocean.

For a few minutes everything was perfect. And then Lars’ eyelids were painted a dark pink as Rose moved and covered his light. The static that had seemed ready to dissipate rushed back, and he opened one, annoyed.

“I am this close to throwing you in the ocean and leaving,” Lars grunted.

“There’s no space between your fingers…”

“That’s the point.” He went back to practicing his breathing.

He held a finger up when he felt Rose get close to poking him. “Meditating.”

“Time limit.” Rose reminded him in annoyance. As if he had somehow forgotten with everything that had happened.

“Blow your time limit!” Lars shouted, breaking from the meditative pose he’d taken. He rolled to his knees, damp sand sticking to the jean’s fabric. “Thanks to you, Steven’s dad hates me! And now him and Pearl are fighting again! Do you know how that’s going to make Steven feel? No, you don’t, because you only care about yourself, Rose Quartz!” 

Rose hadn’t expected the boy to be so fast, and she felt her artificial form thrum in fear at his sudden proximity, his eyes narrowed, face shoved in hers, hands on his shoulders. And then he pushed her, and she hit the sand with a hard thud. A wave rolled in, and Rose felt the water touch her form, but not get wet, strangely intangible like everything else.

“WHY SO DOWNIE, MR. FROWNIE?” Amethyst screamed, jumping up from the water and through Rose, and landing where her stomach was. If she felt the same shudder that Rose was feeling from their bodies overlapping she made no mention of it.

Lars screamed and fell backwards onto the sand. “Fuck’s sake, Amethyst!” he shouted, rubbing his back from the abruptly hard landing.

“Dude, where’s your chill? You never scare that easily.”

“What are you doing here, Amethyst?” Lars asked, frustration lacing his tone with acid.

Amethyst rolled her eyes, used to Lars’ attitude. “We’re being sharks and scaring the tourists!”

The rest of the Famethyst rose from the ocean, following after their leader with dripping hair and shapeshifted shark fins. Breaker and Screech (they were all fascinated with the concept of individual names and chose their own monikers on Earth) got into an argument and started hitting each other before even managing a few steps to Lars. Skinny rolled her eyes hard, but softened when Carnelian gave her a playful punch to the forearm.

Lars begrudgingly had to admit that screwing with (exploitative) tourists was fun, and gave out high fives all around with a sigh. The tourists were ravenous in the summer, coming for gaudy pictures and harassing many of the residents who just wanted to be alone. As long as no one got hurt, the mayor and law enforcement of Beach City tended to look the other way towards mischief caused to unruly and rude tourists.

Rose was still on the ground, shock freezing her limbs as she tried to process everything. Amethyst had clearly regenerated since she’d been gone, but that was to be expected. The stars on her clothes were touching, and Rose felt warm at the realization of the motif they were clearly going for. But she felt even warmer at seeing the other gems with her. Rose remembered quite a few of them. The skinny jasper and the carnelian especially, had been a team since she first met them and were a force to be reckoned with in battle. A few of the other amethysts Rose recognized as some of the warriors pearl had poofed in her time, and many of them she had fought with.

They loved Amethyst, that much was plainly evident, and Rose felt tears well at the corners of her eyes. They loved her, even if she was overcooked, and late. Rose had always told her how special she was and it seemed like she finally realized it for herself.

Amethyst noticed the pile of garbage and her eyes widened comically. “Dude, you gonna eat that?”

“Help yourself.” Lars said, sitting up. He hugged his knees to his chest, and let his hands hang loose and idly played with the sand.

Amethyst whooped, and cheered, immediately moving to start eating the trash. Rose let out a relieved sigh, glad that their bodies were no longer overlapping. The rest of the Famethyst gathered awkwardly around the dock, most of them too tall to fit under it easily. Lars felt suddenly claustrophobic with all of them blocking the light.

“You should share, Amethyst,” Lars reprimanded her, in the most Pearl like voice he could muster, hoping that would make her go away.

“Who died and made you king of the dock?” Amethyst snarked back, around a mouthful of broken bottles.

“I died. And made myself king.”

“Ugh. When are you going to stop playing the ‘I died’ card?”

“When it stops working,” Lars replied back smugly, and Amethyst finally noticed the rest of the Famethyst glaring at her.

“Sorry, guys,” She said sheepishly, swallowing thickly. She divided the rest of the litter between them as fairly as possible, but there wasn’t really much, and she frowned when she finished. Amethyst thought for a second and then flashed Lars her most winning, pleading grin.

Lars groaned. “Fine. Just this once. Go tell Sadie I said you could each have one donut. One. And don’t say I never do anything for you.”

Within seconds sunlight was streaming back into the area under the dock, most of the Famethyst dispersing with loud cheers and splashing. Skinny hung back, and Amethyst shot her a thumbs up, declaring her in charge until she got back (which of course meant Skinny would have to knock some heads around when Sharky inevitably didn’t believe her that Amethyst would put her in charge.)

Lars let out a long breath. They were finally all gone. Except Rose and Amethyst of course. Amethyst sat beside Lars, chewing on an old shoe, and Rose chose that moment to sit on his other side. It was like he was a quartz sandwich, Lars thought to himself. And then his mind realized the unsavory implications of that thought and he decided he would never think about it again.

“So, what’s actually wrong, Lars?” Amethyst asked quietly, the side of her face closest to him covered by her hair and unreadable. “You were yelling at nothing before I got here.”

“Why do you care, Amethyst?” Lars was hesitant to open up, expecting Amethyst’s abrasive teasing as response. They didn’t get along well. Sometimes Amethyst reminded Lars so much of the person he’d been before he was pink that it made him want to throw up. There were days where it was hard to even look at her.

Amethyst looked queasy herself, as if opening up to Lars was somehow more disgusting than the things she’d just been eating. “Ugh, cause you look all gross and sad and junk… Like… like how I used to look when everyone thought I was nothing. You look like me.”

“Eww.”

“Eww yourself, Pinkie,” Amethyst exclaimed shoving Lars playfully into Rose.

Lars smirked. “What if I said that Rose Quartz was back and that’s who I was yelling at?”

Amethyst laughed until she cried. Lars watched with no expression, and ignored Rose at his side. When Amethyst had laughed herself out she wiped her eyes, caught her breath and then took in the look on Lars’ face.

“Holy shit you’re serious.”

“Deadly.” Lars’ deadpanned and they both laughed awkwardly.

Amethyst’s expression changed then, to something small and sad. “Lars, can I be real with you for a bit?” Her tone changed to one that was angry and passionate, “and we’re never mentioning this conversation –”

Lars stopped her with a hand. “I’m king of dock, so I’ve decided that whatever happens under the dock, stays under the dock.”

Amethyst gave him that small smile that he knew meant, ‘you’re alright, dude’, and leaned back against the wall, arms behind her head. “The scary thing about fusion is that when you become one with someone, you can see everything, including their memories and emotions. Garnet’s the best at it, so she can hide things, and I guess Pearl can too, but I’ve never been good at that part of it. Defective and all, y’know? Steven used to think about what life would be like if he could have Rose. And everyone else. And it made me wonder about it too. For a long time. I even dreamed about it more than once.”

“And?” Lars asked gently, when Amethyst trailed off for a long time.

“If she had been here all along, maybe things would be good. But we can’t have that. I don’t know if Rose suddenly coming back would be a good thing, if she is back.” Amethyst rubbed her hands together guiltily, almost ashamed of the things she was saying.

Lars felt Rose tense beside him. He looked, and for the first time since meeting her, saw the boy with pink hair as Rose, instead of a strange mirror twin. The hair and terrible fashion choices were still there, but there was an expression on her face that was so alien to Lars that he had to look away. It struck him how old Rose was. How much she must’ve seen.

“Like, Pearl finally got fun again, now that she’s getting laid on the regular and got rid of that stick up her ass. And her and Garnet don’t gang up on me anymore. If Rose came back, Steven and Greg would be so happy, but it would be as garbage for us as when Steven was first born. And we have new gems now. Laz would have a cow, and I’m not sure how Bis would feel, but I don’t think it would be good. But no one would say anything because of Greg and Steven! Especially not Pearl. No one would tell Rose what she needs to hear!”

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that,” Lars muttered sadly. The conviction in his voice scared Amethyst. They both stared at the sand, silent for a long time. It took Lars several minutes of breathing to work up to telling Amethyst about the car wash.

“Damn. You made Greg hate you. And you might have made him and Pearl start fighting again.” Amethyst whistled low. It was almost impressive how fast things had gone south for him.

“Don’t remind me,” Lars growled into his knees, eyes crinkling in anger, breath hitching, and a lump forming in his throat at the painful reminder.

“Greg’ll come around,” Amethyst assured him. “He always does.”

“He practically called me defective, Amethyst.”

Amethyst didn’t know what to say. On the one hand she wanted to defend Greg, but on the other she couldn’t condone someone making Lars feel like he was garbage, even if they weren’t really friends. “Greg never had the chance to be bitter about it, Lars. Not like we did.”

There was confusion on Lars’ face when he looked up from his knees and he moved back to look her in the eye, wiping the snot from his nose away. Amethyst pointedly didn’t mention the tears in his eyes.

When Amethyst spoke again, it was almost a whisper. Like she was ashamed. “Before Steven came to live with us, and forced us to get along, we were a mess, Lars. Pearl and I fought constantly. It was never really that much fun to fight with her, but we were so screwed up we couldn’t figure out anything else to do. All the emotions and feeling we had towards Rose that we couldn’t say to her we took out on each other. And Pearl and I knew how to hurt each other really well. We were experts at it. I did things like mess up Pearl’s swords, even though I knew every one of them was special, or deliberately set off her obsessive need for neatness and symmetry even though I knew that she couldn’t help it that her brain made things like that stick out so much that it physically hurt. And both of us used Rose to hurt the other. We used to fuse often for fun, Lars! And then for a long time we could barely look at each other. I can’t remember very many happy memories from back then.”

“We fought with Garnet, too, but that was different. There’s this episode of ‘Li’l Butler’ where the kid’s parents are trying to make the kid pick which one of them they like better, and by the end they all hate each other! It was like that with Garnet for a long time.”

“And Greg?” Lars asked, morbidly curious at where this was going.

“Greg was busy with Steven. And eating and sleeping. We didn’t have missions all the time, and we worked so badly as a team that G would usually go on her own. So Pearl had plenty of time to let her feelings for Greg to fester and grow. For a while I used Pearl fighting with Greg as a way to get closer to him. She took out her resentment on both of us, and we bonded over that. And then I did something… bad. Twice.”

Amethyst dug her fingers into her stomach, tears spilling out from her eyes. Lars awkwardly patted her back, and was relieved when Amethyst shoved them away. He let her cry for a bit. On his other side Rose had been, and still was, crying hot ugly tears again. Lars let a few of his own escape, just to try and feel a little better. It didn’t help.

Eventually, Amethyst took a shuddering breath and continued. “I got mad when I thought he wasn’t giving me enough attention.”

“What did you do, Amethyst?” Lars demanded when she stopped talking again.

Amethyst hesitated. She hadn’t told anyone about the first or second time, though she suspected that Garnet knew, because Garnet had a way of just knowing things.

“I pretended to be Rose. It’s who he really wanted.” Amethyst forced the words out past the lump in her throat. “He didn’t speak to me without Pearl or Garnet in the room for a long time. And then I did it again, when things were finally getting better. We never talked about what happened the way he did with Pearl.”

“Maybe what I did made Greg say that awful thing to you. Cause we never talked about it. Maybe Greg’s just been waiting for his turn to be mad.” Amethyst’s voice had become so low that Lars had to strain his ears to hear it.

It took Lars a long time to process what Amethyst had said. It felt like his body was being crushed, and his limbs were too slow to do anything. Lars remembered playing with Ronaldo on the beach long ago, when they were four. They were out of sight of their parents for a barely a minute, but Lars got hit by a rogue wave and pulled under. It felt like that. It felt like he was drowning all over. That time his father wasn’t there to pull him out, and that was the worst part of all.

When Lars finally surfaced, he wondered why he didn’t feel angry. Maybe he was just numb. Rose offered no solutions, content to bask in her misery.

“How long ago was that?” Lars asked.

“Steven was thirteen. The…. The second time.”

Lars replied heavily, “I did some not good things back then too. I wasn’t that nice. That was seven years ago. It stopped being your fault a long time ago.”

The relief on Amethyst’s face almost made Lars cry again. They were still both raw and vulnerable, but Lars felt like he understood her better. Understood everything better. The waves had grown closer as the tide came in, and Lars enjoyed the sensation of them on his bare feet as they let the silence stretch long between them.

“What do you think she’d say if she was here?” Amethyst asked, breaking the silence after nearly a quarter of an hour.

“She is. You want proof?”

“No!” It was louder than Amethyst intended and Lars wouldn’t have been surprised if people on the street had heard her shout. “I don’t want to know for sure, Pinkie.”

Lars snorted, and crossed his arms. Beside him, Rose was blubbering through her response. Luckily, he’d learned to decipher distraught garbled speeches from his time with Steven and so, with a bit of difficulty, he listened.

“I think she’d be disappointed that you all turned to fighting instead of leaning on each other for support during your most difficult years. But I think she’d also be proud of how far you all have come. And of the new friends you’ve made.”

“It was all Steven,” Amethyst admitted. “The only decent thing to come from that mess.”

“Yeah,” Lars agreed. “I also think she’d want to – needs to – hear what you think she should’ve heard after all these years. If she were here, it would be on a time crunch, so this is your only chance.”

Rose was shaking her head. She knew it was selfish, but she didn’t think she could stand hearing Amethyst, the lovely, funny, goofy gem from her memories go off and destroy the rosy image she’d had of all of them. Lars nodded back at her just as hard. However awful this was for either of them, she needed to hear what Amethyst was going to say. It was hard not to take the words personally when he was the conduit between the world and Rose. Lars decided he could handle it, that he was ready for more pain.

What he wasn’t ready for was the tiny explosion that was Amethyst after he gave her permission. She yelled and paced, and glared at Lars – except it wasn’t really at Lars, it was just to the right of him, where Rose Quartz was sitting shell-shocked and ashamed, as if Amethyst could sense her presence through her anger without needing to see her.

“You always said I was wonderful and special and perfect just the way I was, Rose! You were the first one to say that to me. And when you were still around Pearl knew how to have fun and we actually did things together. And Garnet was stoic and serious, but in a cool way! She smiled more back then. You always had time for me. And then you met Greg! You barely had time for Pearl and she was your lover! So I got even less time with you. Do you want to know who Pearl came to, crying her eyes out with self-loathing. Every. Single. Time. you decided to leave her for Greg? Me! She came to me! Garnet was too busy fangirling over you and Greg, too busy seeing how in love you two were, to see how much pain Pearl and I were in!”

“You didn’t even tell us you were planning to have a baby until it already happened!” This line was delivered so loudly that Lars had to cover his ears from discomfort with a wince. Amethyst’s face was a disaster, snot and tears mixing in rivulets down her face, spittle flying through her angry rant. Her entire form was heaving, but having started she couldn’t stop herself until she was through with what she wanted to say.

“I was alone when you died. I had no one! Even when Steven came along. He was an alien, Rose! How were we supposed to raise him? We were a mess. You left us alone to do what _you_ wanted! Do you know what I wanted? I WANTED our stupid family to stay the way it was. You wrecked everything cause you could never have enough. Our family wasn’t good enough for you.”

When Amethyst stopped Lars was numb. Rose was even worse off from the too accurate tear down. Her face was worse than Amethyst’s somehow, and when Lars stood up all she could manage to do was reach her arms up towards him weakly. Amethyst flopped onto the ground, and rolled into a sniffling ball.

“Can you leave now, Lars?” she demanded, waving him away with an arm.

“Yeah.” He paused, then remembered why he started this stupid mission in the first place. “Do you know where Steven is?”

Amethyst whimpered pathetically. “He said he had some ‘Bismuth’ with Peri-dork at the workshop. Get it? Bismuth?” Amethyst laughed bitterly, the sound wet and choking in her sore throat. Lars said nothing at all.

By that point Rose had managed to make it to her feet on her own, her reaching hands ignored. She stumbled, and fell upon Lars, clinging to his back and refusing to let go. He didn’t even react. Mechanically, he pulled on his shoes and socks, one of the laces ripping without him realizing.

With heavy footsteps and a heavier heart, Lars left the spot under the dock, the sun slowly moving through the western part of the sky. It was certainly early evening by now, but he didn’t check his watch as he set off for the lighthouse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is also a long chapter again, but I feel good about this one and it was really fun to write. And I couldn't figure out a good place to cut this one. This is a chapter I really wanted to write, especially after rewatching Maximum Capacity, we've seen a lot of Pearl's story when it came to Rose, but it feels like Amethyst has a lot of underlying feeling about Rose that needed to be worked out. I've thought about a 'Rose get's told' fic often, and I finally get the chance to do that for here. I promise the next chapter is less emotionally intense. There will be a short break before I continue causing pain and suffering. Thanks for reading! Leave a comment if you like!
> 
> Also, if you like this fic and want more 'What would happen if Rose met the current CGs?' check out: [**Selaginella Lepidophylla**](http://archiveofourown.org/works/8910277) (32232 words) by [**DrJekyl**](http://archiveofourown.org/users/DrJekyl), [**CompletelyDifferent**](http://archiveofourown.org/users/CompletelyDifferent), [**airamcg**](http://archiveofourown.org/users/airamcg), [**TheBlindBandit**](http://archiveofourown.org/users/TheBlindBandit)  
>  The lore is great! 
> 
> And if you want more Lars with everyone check out [**Always Been An Off Color**](http://archiveofourown.org/works/11294484) (11622 words) by [**thelittlemerms**](http://archiveofourown.org/users/thelittlemerms)  
>  Includes trans!Lars, Blue Zircon and the CG's meeting the Off Colors. It's a lot of fun to read, and has some good intrigue already set up.


	6. An Die Freude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Questions and secrets. In other words: exposition, exposition, exposition.

The universe did its best to cheer Lars up and he was chagrined when it starting working. Rose stayed firmly wrapped around his body, legs crossed at the ankles around his waist, and arms around his neck, hands twined loosely. She was surprisingly light like that, and Lars almost forgot that she was hanging off of him like a koala. There were a few spots of dampness soaking through his muscle shirt that Lars recognized as being her tears where she had buried her face. Did ghost tears wash out? And if they didn’t did that mean he’d be the only one to ever see them there, as a taunting reminder of the day?

It was early evening when Lars walked through Beach City, steps quick but sure, heading towards the bottom of the hill that the lighthouse was on. The worst of the day’s heat was over; many of the residents of Beach City were coming out of their houses to enjoy the cooling air. Kiki waved at Lars as her delivery van drove by and with a smile he found himself waving back. Onion and his little gang almost ran into him, and he was baffled by the things he saw them carrying.

The normalcy of it was almost foreign. In only a few short hours, Lars had met a ghost, destroyed the emotional well-being of several people and gems that he cared about and skipped work, and yet Beach City continued on without any knowledge of it. He heard shouting, and looked up to see the Famethyst laughing and smiling, Skinny, with Carnelian perched on her shoulders, was waving from far away, and pointing at the donuts they were all holding. He thought they were yelling something like ‘thank you’, but couldn’t make it out. It was strange to see them so happy, when he had left Amethyst so emotionally gutted. He shot them finger guns, and they laughed as he walked on.

“Fuck you, Lars!” He heard Pee Dee yell from somewhere behind him, and then he was smiling despite himself.

“Only in your dreams at night!” Lars yelled back, twisting his body to see the smirk on Pee Dee’s face.

It was almost enough to make him forget the day and what had happened. Almost. The fence around the hill brought it all back. Pearl and Greg had spent an entire hot summer day working on it together, the others joining in and leaving throughout the day in various shifts. The gate was the hardest to look at, with the sign that Steven had helped make covering one half, with the words  “Danger: Crystal Gems only” in Greg’s blocky handwriting and then, underneath ‘Please’ in the looping fancy script that could only be Pearl’s, and underneath that, Steven had made everyone who worked on the fence sign it. Lars saw his own name, with the r and s almost overlapping where he had shoved it in between Steven and Pearl’s names and sighed. That had been a good day.

When Lars stopped to dig the gate key out of his pants pocket, Rose finally lifted her head and looked up. She nearly fell off Lars’ back in surprise, and it was instinct alone on his part that made him grab her legs and lift her higher in a piggyback. If Lars’ could’ve seen Rose’s face he would’ve been surprised by her wide starry eyes, and slack jawed mouth.

He didn’t have to though, because he heard the awe when she spoke, voice rough from crying. “Pearl got her fence.”

Lars laughed as he unlocked the gate, managing to keep Rose situated on his back with one hand and slipped into the darkness beyond, closing it behind him. He knew it wasn’t the gate that was surprising. It was what lay beyond the gate that was. Everyone was so used to the sight that he had forgotten the awe it had filled him with the first time. It was mostly a symbol of regret for him now.

After shoving his keys in his pockets again he stopped for a moment to take everything in. Rose was surprisingly cool against his back, and he was struck with the confusion of her corporeality for him compared to everyone else. He wondered what he looked like carrying her the way he was.

Before him stretched a huge forest. The trees were tall enough to reach Opal’s lower set of arms easily, and the darkness they created was oppressive. Their roots were engorged and spread over the ground so much that there was not an inch uncovered. The boughs of the trees covered each other, all of them so closely shoved together that they should have choked themselves to death had they been normal trees. From their branches lemons larger than Lars’ head pulled and threatened to fall. The city had tried more than once to cut down the lemon tree forest that covered the hillside, but every tree they cut down seemed grow back even bigger, as though to get revenge and defy them for trying.

Lars knew he could just take the warp from the Temple to the lighthouse, but there was too much chance of running into Pearl or Amethyst on the way there – or even worse, Lapis Lazuli, who he had trouble lying to when she got it into her mind to confront him. An extremely powerful and pissed off water gem was the absolute last thing he wanted. There was also the fact that sometimes it made him feel sick, and he didn't feel like chancing it when he was already feeling bad. He knew the way through the forest anyways. It was safe for those who did. Those who didn’t could spend days lost in the oppressive darkness. Hence the fence. Well, there was also the fact that the lemons were poisonous, and they had to prevent stupid people from eating them.

Lars huffed a breath out, adjusted Rose more comfortably on his back – carrying her was preferable to spending hours looking for her if she got lost in the forest, intangibility be damned – and started his slow trek through the trees. He kept his eyes down at first, but quickly fell into the rhythm. There were some places he would need to climb over with his hands against the roots, or moments of careful sliding, but even after months away at school he had not forgotten the route.

“I’m sorry about what Greg said. I’ve never seen him be so mean,” Rose said, mouth uncomfortably near Lars’ ear. He nearly dropped her.

“It’s a long walk. I need to focus,” Lars grunted out, forcing his eyes forward.

“I know you hate me, Lars, and you’ve got the right. But you don’t have to like me to talk. We could learn something from each other.”

“I’ve learned all I need to know.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Lars did not elaborate further and they lapsed into silence once again. For a few minutes he maneuvered through the roots, enjoying the air and the exercise. His muscles began to warm from exertion.

“How about we make a deal?” Rose asked eventually, arms squeezing Lars in what he assumed was supposed to be an affectionate manner.

“A question for a question. I’ll ask one, and then you ask one.”

“How do I know you won’t lie to me, Rose?” Lars asked bitterly.

“What motive would I have for lying, Lars? I don’t want to be your enemy.”

“Could’ve fooled me.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re a hardened war veteran and yet you froze from a simple encounter with Greg, leaving me to flounder? I’m sure you could’ve thought of something to tell him to prove I wasn’t lying!”

“It’s been a long time since the war. I never meant to get you hurt, Lars. I sacrificed so much for this chance, but you’re the wildcard. Please.” Rose begged very well, Lars decided. She had the inflection perfect, twisted her tone so well that she had already struck at his heart.

Perhaps that was how she recruited her army. Perhaps that was why Pearl and Greg had loved Rose so fiercely. She made you feel good just by talking to her. Made you forget anything she did. Made you feel like you were home and safe. The hair on the back of Lars’ neck stood up and Rose noticed.

“Lars, this isn’t some evil plan. I chose twenty four hours of precious memories to have even the tiniest chance of seeing Steven just once, even for the tiniest fraction of time. I left just seconds before I was about to die and that’s what I’ll go back to. I didn’t think I would have the opportunity to interact with Steven that you represent. Please, Lars. I need you.” Rose’s voice was silk and honey and Lars knew it was a manipulation on her part, but couldn’t help the sympathy blooming in his chest. It scared him.

Lars used that fear to clear his head. “Do gems even have an afterlife?”

“So, we are doing this then. Very well. You’ll go first.” Rose’s tone had suddenly turned business-like and unaffected, unbalancing Lars. He was supposed to be in charge, damnit!

“Gems, like humans, do not know whether there is an afterlife or not and no philosophical agreement has been reached. Though, if you asked the diamonds they’d say no. Fear of nothingness after shattering is very powerful.”

Lars waited for her to continue, but was disappointed. “I feel like I shouldn’t be as annoyed at that answer as I am. Alright, I’ll play. Your turn.”

Rose grinned. “What is all this? We are on the hillside of the Temple are we not? There should only have been a thin layer of soil, and then incredibly hard supportive rock. Nothing that could handle a forest of this size. Unless Steven grew it?”

Lars scoffed. “No way. Steven hates this place. Well, he’s never said it out loud, but I know he does.”

“Whatever for? It’s rather charming, all things considered.” Rose flinched at Lars’ mocking laugh. He had to stop for a moment to catch his breath and he held his stomach with his arms, Rose hooking her ankles again and doing more work to support herself on his back.

“Did you know that many types of fruit grow well in mineral rich soil?” Lars eventually asked, returning to picking his way through the forest.

“I don’t see how that is relevant –”

“Answer the question, Rose.”

“Yes. I knew that.”

“And did you know that almost all gems are classified as minerals?”

“Yes.”

“Exactly. The strawberry fields have an unusually high amount of minerals hence the size of the fruit. It should also be noted that the area where fields are, historically was inhospitable for plant life. Nothing should have been able to grow there.” Lars spoke the words like he was reciting a speech from a book. Maybe it was. Maybe it was something Pearl told him. Rose didn’t stop him to ask. “The site of the strawberry fields is also where Pink Diamond was buried, yes?”

“Yes,” Rose managed to choke out. "The human warriors that existed at that time buried the dead of both sides in the same place, because they were equal in death. I tried to model my army off of theirs."

“Don't care about why, just that it happened. Stay with me on this. So, it stands to reason that a bright red – which is a color very close to pink – fruit would be right at home in soil covered in minerals and organic matter. Humans died there too, if I remember my gem history correctly. And many of those minerals were from a diamond, the best of the best. Perhaps they had a little gem magic left in them.”

Rose kept nodding. She was starting to see where this was going and it terrified her. She tightened her grip subconsciously until Lars had to stop, breathing heavily to pry her arms apart so he didn’t pass out.

Lars wasn’t finished, and he plowed on with his explanation, glad to be the one fazing Rose again instead of the other way around. “So, given what we know, where would a field of bright yellow fruit come from, when that field shouldn’t be able to grow trees at all?”

“Yellow Diamond,” Rose supplied, voice like lead.

“Bingo-Bongo,” Lars sing-songed out. “We have a winner folks! Yellow Diamond was shattered right here on this very hill, during the final battle for Earth. That’s why Steven hates it.”

“I don’t like this question very much.”

“Don’t ask questions you don’t think you can handle the answer to then. My turn,” Lars interrupted Rose sternly, cutting her off from any further line of question.

“What the fuck am I? The only thing the same as me is Lion. He was yours, but he can’t tell me anything. Steven’s tried so hard, but he doesn’t know either.” Lars tried to keep his voice from shaking, but it was difficult. Rose felt her heart ache at the raw pain in his voice, at the way he swallowed down his tears.

“Sweetie,” she started, brushing his hair with her fingers, already attached to this boy with pink hair who hated her. “You’re just you. And you’re perfect the way you are.”

“No!” Lars screamed, scrabbled at Rose’s hands, ripped her from his body. “Don’t tell me that bullshit, feel good crap! I still don’t know what I am! Steven doesn’t know! There’s no one else like me, because Steven wasn’t able to do it again! He wasted it on me, and now there’s no one like me.”

Lars slammed his open palm against his chest for emphasis, tears flowing freely. He slumped down hard on a root and refused to move, eyes empty and blank. From his mouth tumbled a whispered chant of ‘what am I?’

Rose picked herself up and then crawled over to where Lars was sitting to look him in the eye. He sniffled and looked away. “I know, I shouldn’t ask questions like that if I can’t handle the answer.”

Rose didn’t rub it in. “Truthfully I don’t know how I did it myself. Gems pop out of the ground knowing their purpose, but not necessarily how to fulfill that purpose. I was created for healing and defense and knew what to do when it came to gems. I can’t heal shattered gems. And I can’t bring organic life back from the dead. I am not any of the goddesses that the humans invented after seeing me. I don’t know how I saved Lion. One minute he was dead, and I was crying. And the next he was okay, but very different. I never managed to do it again, no matter how much I cried for the humans in my arms.”

“I guess I shouldn’t have expected you could help me. Pearl couldn’t explain it, Steven couldn’t explain it, and now you can’t explain it. I’ll never know what I am.” It sounded like he had accepted defeat long ago, but that she had utterly destroyed the last tiny bit of hope he still possessed. With monumental effort Lars rose again to his feet and pulled Rose onto his back.

This time she felt heavy, and every gnarled root and twist of the path felt like another weight being added. It was like that story of the man pushing the rock up the hill only for it to fall back down, over and over for all eternity. “Always be an Off Color.” He muttered this under his breath every time he almost tripped.

"Lars.” Rose hesitated, growing sick of the dismal atmosphere. “Let’s talk about something nice. You and Pearl, how did you two become friends?”

“I guess it is your turn to ask a question.” Lars didn’t want to talk about nice things. He was reeling. He wanted to keep being miserable, not let Rose pull him in with her sugary sweet and make him forget himself. At least he knew the misery was real. The shadows of the trees seemed to lengthen as he went, and he wondered again if his mind was playing tricks on him.

Eventually he decided to answer her question. They were almost there anyways, and if there really was no answer as to what he was, then he figured he might as well try and forget about it. It would be nice to talk about something not awful for a while anyways.

“Kitchens do strange things to humans. Kitchens and cars. I came out as bi to my parents in the car, because then none of us could run away. But every other important thing I’ve said has been in the kitchen. I first told Sadie I loved her in the kitchen. I told Steven how much he means to me making cinnamon buns. I apologized to my parents and cooked them a meal. Eating isn’t just about sustenance for humans. It means something more. And so the place where you make food means something more.”

“Sitting down and eating a meal together, knowing that you have kept someone a little less hungry and a little less lonely, having that ability is amazing, even if I don’t eat anymore. It’s the one good thing I know I can do for other people.”

“Pearl and I didn’t get along in the kitchen at first. She wanted to follow the recipe exactly, and I preferred to cook spontaneously. Making food with someone is a sure fire way to either forge or destroy a friendship – which is actually why Sadie and I don’t cook together. Our first cooking experience started out with us screaming at each other so loud that it was heard halfway across the beach. But by the time Steven got there to try and mediate Pearl was laughing at a human joke I explained to her, and we were halfway through a three course meal. Our ways of cooking complimented each other, it turns out, and made something better than either of us could do on our own.”

Rose wished she could have been there. Pearl being friends with a human. Opening up and cooking with him, working towards a shared goal without her or anyone else’s intervention. The way Lars smiled when he talked about it, was something Rose wished she could capture in still for ever, even though nothing would be able to do the reality justice.

“Kitchens just bring things out of people, and you start talking when you get in sync. I learned gem history, and about you, and Homeworld and a million other tiny things in that kitchen. And Pearl learned about Sadie, human pop culture, and all the ways that humans are fascinating. Kitchens have sharp knives and hot surfaces, so you have to trust the person you’re working with a lot. And we learned to do that together. We even cook a meal, once a month with open invitation to everyone in the city – the Temple actually has a dinner table now. The Crystal Gems and the humans of Beach city are more entwined than ever, and it’s all because of food that, ironically, half of us don’t eat.”

Lars' good mood was back, and he looked up to see the end of the forest, the hazy gold light of that hour just before sunset calling him out of the dark. His pace quickened, and within a few minutes they were out of the forest, only a few feet away from the lighthouse.

“Okay, get off.” Lars dropped Rose so suddenly she had no chance to recover, and she slid off his back and hit the ground hard. Lars shook the cobwebs from his head, and checked the time. 8:37. He’d been in the forest longer than he’d expected, but it held some lingering magic in it, and things like time and distance tended to follow less rules inside of its darkness. It didn’t matter anyways, either Steven would be in the workshop, or he wouldn’t. Without waiting for Rose, Lars grabbed the handle of the worn door and pulled.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been very productive this week, thus this chapter has come early! Lars and Pee Dee have an interesting relationship. This chapter is a bit of breather, and while there's still suffering, there is much less suffering. This chapter was also super fun to write, and next chapter has some more characters finally! I feel like Rose would be really charismatic and manipulative sometimes, but like not even aware that she's doing it. And that's why she always gets/does what she wants. Anyways, hope you all enjoyed the chapter, thanks for reading, and feel free to leave a comment if you're so inclined.
> 
> Edit - A very astute commenter has pointed out a bit of canon I forgot. I have done my best to fix it. May still change if I think of something better.


	7. Punk Rock Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bismuth, Peridot and punk rock.

A blast of hot muggy air assaulted Lars when he opened the door and from the corner of his eye he spied Rose scrambling to follow after him. Bismuth liked it hot, and no one had thus far complained, so even in the summer the ovens of the workshop roared. She had wanted to pipe up some lava from the Earth’s crust for ease of forging, but Pearl and Garnet absolutely vetoed it, instead making access to her Forge much more convenient for everyone.

The chaos Lars opened the door to was comforting in its familiarity. The lighthouse was small, but Bismuth liked it immensely as a workshop, and had done her best to make use of the limited space. He assumed she had made it satisfactory, considering she practically lived there (even though Pearl was always guiltily reminding her that she was welcome in the Temple. Bismuth would just pat her on the back and remind her that it wasn’t her fault that she wasn’t living there.)

There were three ovens in the small space, two of them blazing heartily and the other sooty and black. Strong metal containers held Bismuth’s materials and on top of them were shavings of metal, tools and half-finished gem weapons. The walls had been painted a neutral grey, after they had been changed from flimsy wood to multiple layers of brick, and he could see the layers easily, the effect striking, but pleasing. In the middle of the room stood a heavy metal table that Lars knew was bolted to the floor, paper, chalk and charcoal scattered haphazardly across it. The least messy corner, furthest from the ovens, held a reasonably sized bed (Bismuth greatly enjoyed sleeping) and a box that Lars assumed held personal items. Bismuth was humming as she swept up, but when she heard the door swing shut she looked up, and practically dropped her broom.

“Oh my gosh! Lars? Is that you? When did you get home?” Bismuth asked in surprise, her entire face lighting up. “Whatcha been cookin’, good lookin’?”

Lars blushed as she hip checked him softly and then dragged him in for a hug, marvelling at her ability to make him smile with just a few words. Bismuth always knew how to make everyone smile, and when she did, it was genuine. It was never false promises or platitudes, she just understood how to make people feel good.  

“Everything.” He told her when she put him down. “Head chef wants us to be able to work with almost any ingredient. I had to use alligator in a dessert!”

“Don’t you be yanking my chain, Lars!”

“I’m serious! I have pictures and everything!” Lars exclaimed excited to finally show it off. And then he remembered who had his phone and why, and looked behind him, his good mood dashed again.

Bismuth noticed the way his face fell, and ruffled his hair affectionately. “Hey, I believe you, I was just teasing. I’m sure it was amazing. Even if you were using inferior cooking equipment.”

“It wouldn’t be fair to use anything you made, Bismuth,” Lars reminded her, falling into their old disagreement with ease.

“Since when has any battle been won by being fair?” Bismuth declared. “You know that more than anyone.”

“It’s good to be back.” Lars ended the conversation with a deflection. It was an old tired argument, and both sides had long drawn their immovable battle lines. Lars didn’t have the emotional fortitude left for that kind of debating after the day he’d had.

“Good to have you back,” Bismuth said wistfully, accepting the change in topic. “We really missed you.”

“We? Is the little gremlin here too?”

Peridot scampered out from under the warmth and safety of the table and threw herself at Lars screaming, “I will climb you like a vine!”

From his hip where she latched on to she literally climbed him, circling his body until she sat on his shoulders. She shoved a pair of headphones on his head and a thrum of bass pulsed through him. The sound quality was amazing, and Lars felt a full body chill roll from his head to his feet. It was glorious. It felt like his body was drinking the music in.

“I fixed your headphones and MP3 player,” Peridot’s nasally voice cut through the sound like chicken wire. “I also made them better. I upgraded your memory to be able to hold three trillion songs, and your headphones operate at a larger number of frequencies, including some only heard by dogs!”

Peridot had done a good job, as always. A punk rock song came on, and Lars knew every word and dip and swell in the music, yet was surprised by new pieces he hadn’t even realized were there. He’d have to find some way to thank her, he knew.

The sound died suddenly, and Lars was already too slack jawed to notice. When he closed his mouth, he realized that Bismuth had unplugged his MP3 player, leaving the headphone cord dangling uselessly. He slid the headphones down around his neck to see Bismuth smiling wildly at him.

“C’mon, share the music, Lars!” Then she pulled a sheet off a new addition to the room that Lars hadn’t noticed at first, revealing two massive speakers. She plugged in his MP3 player, and Lars was blasted by a wave of sound that almost knocked him off his feet.

He held his head and laughed deeply from his belly, Peridot gripping his shoulders to not fall off, her own face split with joy. Lars forgot everything to the music, especially when Bismuth pulled him onto her shoulders (thank goodness the workshop had a high ceiling) and threw one hand up, nodding her head to the beat and dancing across the room.

Peridot scampered down between one song and the next, cackling nasally, until she was standing in front of the speakers. She reached up on tiptoe for the volume, slowly and deliberately cranking it to the maximum setting. Or at least she would’ve had Bismuth not stopped her with a hand.

“We don’t need Pearl coming up here and yelling at us because they can hear the music in the Temple, Peri,” Bismuth reminded her gently.

“Nyeh, we don’t have to worry about that!” Peridot pulled out her tablet from under the table, and spent several seconds finding what she was looking for. “See the fruits of my superior intellect! I have ‘hacked’ Pearl’s calendar on her cellular device. Today is ‘Sheena’ with hearts on either side, which means she is spending the night at the human’s residence. We are free to play our music with impunity!”

Peridot held the tablet over her head for the others to see, cackling the whole time. Bismuth and Lars exchanged glances, Bismuth not entirely sure what Peridot was talking about but nonetheless perturbed. Lars slid down from her shoulders to get a better look.

“You shouldn’t ‘hack’ people, Peridot,” Bismuth scolded her gently, tousling her hair.

“Yeah,” Lars added dryly crossing his arms. He raised a brow and Peridot wilted, guiltily. She hated when Lars gave her that look. “How would you feel if Pearl hacked your tablet and found out about all those dirty Camp Pining Hearts stories you read?”

Peridot whimpered. “You know about those?”

“You left a tab open and I got some really weird targeted advertisements after I let you use my phone that one time.” Lars explained it so casually that Peridot wanted to shatter from the embarrassment.

A deep green blush dusted her cheeks and she tapped at her tablet quickly. “I’m sorry. I’ll discontinue ‘hacking’ Pearl’s cellular device.”

Lars let her off the hook quickly, knowing that she wasn’t purposely malicious, simply misguided. He turned the music up, while Peridot tried to get her face to stop burning, unable to look either of them in the eye right away. Rose grabbed his wrist as he did so. He tried to turn the music up even higher to spite her, but found her hand prevented him from twisting his wrist in the simple motion. Well that was interesting.

Bismuth noticed his struggle against his own hand and he jumped back from the speakers, shoving his hands guilty into his pockets. He tried to give her an innocent smile, but Bismuth clearly didn’t believe him. Thankfully she didn’t press him, and he appreciated it immensely.

“I’d love to party with you guys, honestly, but I’m looking for Steven.”

“Oh, you just missed him, he left an hour ago,” Bismuth explained.

“Yes. He spent some time talking to Bismuth and I, and then went upstairs to talk to human Ronaldo. Then he just left before I could even show him how I rewired the speakers to be even louder!” Peridot pouted as she finally placed her tablet haphazardly on the steel table, turning to finally max out the speaker’s volume.

“Ron’s here?” Lars asked.

“Yeah, upstairs.”

Lars flew to the stairs, and had one foot on the bottom step before he turned sheepishly to Bismuth and Peridot. Bismuth waved him off with a smile, and Peridot was too busy dancing terribly to notice him.

The steps were a dizzying spiral, and Lars kept one hand on the wall as he went. He knew Rose was behind him by the occasional touches of their hands or other body parts when he suddenly changed speeds going up the staircase. The music rose up behind, pulsing loudly through the structure, until he made it to the second floor, Peridot’s laboratory. She had left the door wide open and the last of the day’s dying light poured through the large window they’d installed and bled out into the staircase hallway. The window was mostly for Lapis’ sake, and not because Peridot desired natural light. If it were up to her, there wouldn’t have been a window at all. But Lapis liked to visit when she holed herself up for days on end, instead of returning to the room they shared in the Temple, and she refused to use the door, since that would mean interacting with Bismuth. He caught a quick glimpse inside, and was relieved to see not much had changed. There were still Camp Pining Hearts stickers everywhere, messes of metal, wires, junk, and other scraps, assorted meep-morps – both Peridot’s own, and the one’s she’d made with Lapis or Bismuth – a metal arm and leg prototype, books on human anatomy and physiology and a TV tucked underneath.

The glimpse was tempting, but Lars ignored his urge to snoop to continue up the staircase. The further he went the more the music faded, until it was only a soft echo through the thickly bricked up structure. Secretly it amused him a little that the music bled easily outside and to the Temple, but not inside the workshop.

“What an adorable Peridot! Why is she so little? And Bismuth looks… good.” Rose gushed from behind him.

“Nope, not talking about this now.”

“Lars!”

He ignored her, increasing his speed, taking the stairs two at a time, until he was huffing as he neared the top, Rose hot on his heels, but not fast enough to force an answer out of him. First he put away his headphones and the cable that had snaked its way around his arm while he had been walking up the stairs into his hair. Then he threw open the door at the top of the lighthouse and slid into the small, round room.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a pretty short chapter, but the next one would've been pretty long otherwise, it is mostly finished, so should come not long after this. To the people expecting to finally get to Steven: sorry, that isn't for a while. These next couple of chapters focus on Lars and some more world building before we get to another Rose and Lars confrontation. I'm also a huge fan of the trope wherein the hero manages to defuse the time bomb with like a second to spare, so that's kind of what I was going for with the time limit. I'd say we're a little more than a quarter way through, (chapter-wise at least, I have this planned out where each chapter is a discrete scene, but not sure how the word count will look for each chapter) so hopefully that isn't too much of a turn off for anyone. I do so look forward to sharing the rest of this story with all of you that stick with it, and no hard feelings to the rest. As always, thanks for reading, and leave a comment if you like!


	8. Drink Until You're Dead

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lars Barriga vs. energy drinks. Co-starring: Ronaldo Fryman.

The topmost room of the lighthouse was very similar to the last time he’d seen it. It was surprisingly the coolest room of the lighthouse, due to the high quality insulation Bismuth had installed, and the sound of the music below was only barely discernible. It was furnished with multiple filing cabinets, a chalkboard filled with scribbles, and a cork board filled with newspaper clippings and pictures and push pins connected with red string. The mini fridge had been moved, and another pushed beside it. There was a bedroll in one corner with a pile of clothes on either side, and a small dresser with several anime action figures, including ones that had to be put together. Beside the dresser was a bigger version of the action figures that Lars remembered Ronaldo telling him about, he was making it with Bismuth. The floor was a mosaic of empty space, piles of books, and pieces of paper. In the middle of the room was a desk, where Ronaldo was hunched over in his chair, fingers flying away. Lars’ eyes snapped down. 

“I knew you were extra, Ronnie, but I didn’t think you were that extra!” Lars teased, picking his way through the mess to Ronaldo’s desk. The keys of the ancient typewriter he was using slowed.

“Dad took away my laptop and cellphone, so I have to do everything the old fashioned way,” Ronaldo grumbled, pushing the device across the table, and upending several papers that floated to the ground. He moved a stack of books and Lars sat himself down directly on the desk, tips of his shoes just brushing the floor.

Ronaldo pushed the ancient desk chair that Lars had helped him salvage from the junk yard back with a creaking groan, and he stretched. With the ease of someone who organized his own chaos he was at one of the fridges and back again in a second, several cans balanced in his arms. Lars took one and cracked it open, swallowing it thickly before gagging.

“Fuck, Ron. How can you drink this shit?” Lars held the can of Plazma away from him, sticking his tongue out and wincing.

“It’s an energy drink, Lars, it’s not supposed to taste good.”

“It’s radioactive orange. Aren’t you the one always going off about how the government is adding weird things to energy drinks and that’s the real reason they make you feel good. You aren’t worried this’ll kill you?

“Maybe it will. Dad hates them though, so that makes it bearable.”

Lars nodded in sympathy, and drank another swallow. It got slightly less awful the more he drank, but he was still thankful that it would have a diluted effect on his body compared to Ronaldo’s.

“Things are shit at home, huh?”

“Yeah. Dad knows I hate working at the fry shack, but ever since Pee Dee’s made it more successful he’s desperate for another worker. And he refuses to pay someone when I could do it for free. Always guilt’s me into it by pulling the ‘we’re family, and I raised you and you live under my roof’ card. So now I live here. I think he likes to pretend that I’m worse off than I am. He keeps forgetting I actually pay for almost everything myself.” Ronaldo drained the energy drink, and crushed the can, throwing it across the room in anger. A few drops flew out, and Lars wiped them from his cheek with a thumb.

Lars nursed his own energy drink as Ronaldo opened another, stewing in his anger and frustration. “How are you still updating your blog, dude? I saw your article on that whistle blower you posted yesterday, that was some crazy stuff.”

“Public library. Dad can’t completely cut me off.”

Lars pulled his legs up under him, sitting cross legged on Ronaldo’s desk so he could face him. “You ever thought about just leaving, man? I mean you’re making good money from the freelance thing, and you’ve got that book deal coming up. There’s a college next to the culinary school that offers an investigative journalism degree. You could go there, and we could rent an apartment and live together like the bachelor kings that we were always meant to be.”

“First of all, Lars, we both have girlfriends, and second, I can’t just leave Beach City! I’m an ambassador for the Crystal Gems, I have to make sure that tourists know the truth, not the sensationalized hogwash the new mayor is peddling! There are actually people convinced they hate men! How backwards is that?”

“You used to think they hated men,” Lars reminded him.

“That was a long time ago.”

“I know, buddy. Just keeping you humble.”

Lars finished his drink in the silence, letting Ronaldo consider it. He knew the real reason without having to ask. Ronaldo was terrified. It might suck at home, but at least he was used to it. The devil you knew and all that. Leaving Beach City meant actually confronting his father about their relationship and issues, instead of just living in the lighthouse on and off again every time they fought. This was the third time in a year Ronaldo had claimed he was ‘living at the lighthouse forever.’

“I’ll think about it,” Ronaldo replied eventually.

“I really will.” He piped up again a few seconds later, and Lars thought he might actually be considering it for once. “I met these twins. They’re travelling across the country, writing a book about all the weird things they’re finding. I have so much information on the Crystal Gems that they want to collaborate, so I’ll have another stream of revenue coming in! I told them I would, as long as the boy didn’t use the word ‘anomaly’. They’re truly dedicated to sharing the truth with the world, in a non-judgemental fashion! Maybe this way people will see that the gems really aren’t so different from them! And that they aren’t animals for them to gawk at and take pictures of. The girl twin made me a glitter sweater, too.”

“That’s fantastic, Ron.” Lars replied sincerely, popping open another drink for himself. Rose was busy examining the chalkboard, which was fine by him.  

“How’s the arm doing anyways?”

Ronaldo held up his right arm, which was twitchy and metallic. He’d lost his arm from the elbow down in the final battle, and Peridot had vowed to make him a new one. Bismuth had cast the metal, and Peridot worked on the fine details and innards. It was so perfect a replica of an arm and hand, Lars would’ve been fooled had it not been shiny and grey still.

“She got this iteration perfect Lars! It has working nerves and everything! Jane accidentally spilled soup on it last time I saw her, and it hurt as if it was my real arm! And check this out.”

Lars stared intently at the prosthetic, and suddenly Ronaldo’s index finger transformed, curling and changing. He pointed it at the chalkboard and Lars laughed to see a little red dot.

“She added a laser pointer, an actual laser and a pair of scissors. It almost works better than my real arm did! I still don’t understand how it connects to my brain, even though she’s explained it with diagrams, but it’s so much better than any human made prosthetic that I can’t complain!” 

“Damn,” Lars joked. “Maybe I should lose my arm so I can get one of those.”

Ronaldo laughed, but grew somber after a moment. “It’s not perfect. I still feel phantom pain from my missing limb. It’s weird, I have a perfectly working replacement arm that my brain reads as my actual arm, and yet it thinks something is missing sometimes.”

“Humans are weird,” was all Lars supplied in return and Ronaldo decided he could drink to that. They clinked their cans together, chugging the leftover liquid as fast as they could. Lars finished first, and let out a belch, which caused Ronaldo to laugh so hard he almost choked.

“So what are you writing now?” Lars asked when Ronaldo had stopped choking long enough to breathe again. He craned his neck, trying to see the words written on the page in the typewriter. “Aren’t you already like two weeks ahead with blog posts?”

“This one isn’t for the blog. It’s for Jamie.”

“Oh.” Lars opened another can and drank deeply, even though they had started to make him feel sick, just so he wouldn’t have to talk.

“His final play won several awards and is getting a cross country performance tour. Steven is accepting his posthumous awards, since his parents still don’t acknowledge his plays.” Ronaldo’s lips curled in disgust at that part of the story. “He asked me to write the acceptance/memorial speech.”

“Damn.” Lars fiddled with the tab of his drink. Then he laughed low. “Are you going to include the story of him running into battle with only a mop and a bucket perched on his head?”

Ronaldo laughed. Lars laughed. Their drinks lay forgotten as they grew hysterical for the dead because if they didn’t they’d just start crying again, and Jamie had told Steven the only thing that should make people cry were his plays.

“Hey, that mop poofed three rubies. Tourists come from all over just to take pictures of that mop,” Ronaldo giggled.

“They should be taking pictures with Jamie.”

Lars and Jamie had never particularly been friends, even after he turned pink, but he could respect the man, and they had gone to school together, once. Jamie had even tutored him in his last year of high school to keep him from failing English. And somehow he had even managed to make Shakespeare accessible to someone like Lars. Hamlet had turned out to be surprisingly relatable once the language barrier was broken. After high school they never spoke again directly. Lars didn’t know him. But they knew of each other. And Jamie’s death simply reminded him of how fleeting and fragile everything could be.

“His play is coming here in a couple weeks, and Steven went and bought tickets for everyone who knew him, including you and me. You going to go?” Ronaldo’s voice was thick and it was clear he was feeling rather emotional about the subject.

“I don’t know. It feels like if I go, that means admitting he’s gone. If I don’t I can pretend he went off to make his mark in Empire City. Today’s been awful. I don’t want to ask myself that question today.”

“Awful, huh?” Ronaldo noticed Lars’ empty can of Plazma, and got some more from the fridge, opening one for himself and then another for Lars. He took it and drank it easily since he’d choked down the third can. It was all about getting past the third, then he could just drink as many as he wanted. Not that he should, though.

“Ron, can I ask you a personal probing question?” Lars closed his eyes, an extreme tiredness suddenly hitting him all at once. It wasn’t a bodily tiredness – the energy drinks were finally starting to hit, and he felt like he could run laps – but a mental weariness that he wasn’t sure even mediation could smooth away.

“Can’t be more personal than anything dad said to me. Go ahead.”

“So, remember all the junk with your mom years ago? How she was an awful, manipulative and emotionally abusive person? If she suddenly reappeared, and only you could see her, and she wanted, desperately to see Pee Dee – and you know, let’s pretend Pee Dee had never met her, and didn’t know much about her – and she had sacrificed a huge amount of time and money for one chance to see him, would you let her?” Lars picked at a loose thread on his jeans, unable to look Ronaldo in the eye. Steven wasn’t biologically his brother of course, but what else could possibly describe what they’d become? Steven and the Crystal Gems were his second family – which felt odd, Steven as his brother, but his parental figures as his friends and equals.

“Fuck no,” Ronaldo answered quickly and sincerely.

And there Lars hesitated. “Is it right to make that choice for him?”

“This isn’t about my mom, is it?” Ronaldo asked, much too quick at picking up on things for Lars’ liking.

“If you want my opinion,” Ronaldo started. “Then it is exactly right. It’s not that I think Pee Dee would make a bad choice, I’d just want to keep him from having to make that choice at all. It’s like….” Ronaldo thought for a moment, trying to get his train of thought back. “It’s like, when you love and trust someone, you know they’ll make the right choices for you, even if that means not giving you a choice. At least that’s how it’s supposed to work, I think.”

Lars took in Ronaldo’s words, poking them and prodding them in his head as he shifted where he sat, getting up to stretch and walk around through the untouched pieces of floor scattered through the room. Eventually he made it to the smallest window of the lighthouse. It was barely the size of his face, and faced down the hill into the dark trees.

“Your predictions were right. This isn’t about your mom. It’s about Steven’s. ”

Lars leaned his head on the window, and the glass was uncomfortably warm. Ronaldo spun his chair to face Lars. Lars turned around. All it took was the shaking of his empty can of Plazma and Ronaldo threw another at him, and he tossed the empty back. Lars cracked the top and chugged his fifth, wiping his mouth with his hand after. He was definitely going to have a stomach ache in the morning. Might as well commit then. He waggled the newly empty drink again and Ronaldo repeated the earlier action and got him another one, which he opened, took one sip and then just held in his hand.

Lars explained as much as he could, as best as he could, taking sips of his drink every couple of sentences. There were so many gaps, so many parts of the story that were not his to divulge to a third party. In the end though, he thought he did a reasonably good job explaining the situation to Ronaldo. The way he was almost shaking and furiously scribbling seemed like a good sign.

“I knew I was right about ghosts!”

“Magical gem ghosts,” Lars tried to correct him.

“It counts, Lars! I need to write this down. Is she here right now?”

“Yep, she’s next to your chalkboard. And pissed cause it’s almost ten and we’re on a time limit.” Lars followed that statement with an almost gleeful laugh.

Ronaldo ran next to his chalkboard, waving his arms through the air, only stopping after a few seconds when he realized, that duh, of course he wouldn’t be able to feel a ghost.

“Speaking of the time limit, where is Steven? Peridot said he came up here to talk to you and then left in a hurry.” Lars finished his sixth drink and walked dizzily over to the fridge to grab another. Ronaldo cut him off with a firm hand to his shoulder then turned him away from the fridge and back to the desk. His face had grown sad and serious again.

“Rutile regressed again. He came here for all the observations and data I’ve been taking on her in the last couple of months, and then took off to help her.”

“What?” Lars shouted. “Why didn’t you tell me that first? I need to see her if something happened!”

“It just happened today, Lars! Steven told me she’d be fine with a little spit, he didn’t want to worry you since you just got home a couple days ago and all! He told me not to tell you.”

“I’ll be mad at both of you for this later, I need to see her now! The warp pad is just in the next room over, right?”

“There is no way I am letting you take the warp after drinking six energy drinks, Lars. You’ll throw up, and I don’t want to learn what happens when you vomit in the warp stream. We’ll take my car, I’ll drive.” Ronaldo had both his hands on Lars’ shoulders by this point, and he suddenly remembered that Ronaldo was more than capable of throwing him over his shoulder and carrying his skinny ass wherever he wanted to go.

“But I need to talk to Rose, too!” Lars muttered blearily, the energy drinks turning against him and beginning to make him feel muggy and slow.

Ronaldo huffed in annoyance. “My car is special, remember Lars? If you sit in the back seat then whatever you say will never be heard by the people in the front seat or anyone else and it’ll be like it never happened.” We winked, because he knew Lars wasn’t going to get it otherwise.

Lars was slow to smile, and it was small and subtle, but it was clear he understood. Cars did things to people, as he had told Rose earlier. He nodded to Ronaldo, who was bustling about for his coat and car keys.

“I have to jump it. It shouldn’t take too long, okay? Drink some water or something and then join me.”

And then Lars was alone again, with only an impatient ghost, a clenching stomach, and a throbbing headache.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I do not recommend consuming six energy drinks in less than an hour, like Lars did. Also, I make no apology for the self-indulgent Gravity Falls Easter egg. Another character and dialogue heavy chapter. I promise, next one we get some more answers, specifically about Yellow Diamond. Also, yes, Jamie is dead. You didn't think this second war I was hinting at didn't have casualties on the good guys side, did you? 
> 
> Alright, so first I'd like to recommend [**When We Were Young**](http://archiveofourown.org/works/10767537) (4706 words) by [**BarracudaHeart**](http://archiveofourown.org/users/BarracudaHeart)
> 
> This is a great Ronaldo and Pee Dee family fic and partially the inspiration into 'Ronaldo's home life kind of sucks sometimes and he has mommy issues'. 
> 
> And secondly, while I usually don't soapbox, I think this is important enough to break that rule. I'll only do it this chapter. I want to remind everyone about the fight for net neutrality going on in the USA right now. Regardless of your political stance, net neutrality being taken away will hurt everyone. A03 is a site that relies primarily on donations to keep the servers running, so it would be harder for them to get as much traffic if the site was blocked from high speed loading due to needing to pay more. Also, lets be honest, while no means a bad thing, (it's a great thing actually!) A03 is home to a lot of smut, slash, femslash and other fics (like fetish works) with subject matter that may make more conservative people uncomfortable, and the very fact that fanfiction itself is often contested by copyright holders means it's threatening to them. An internet under the control of cable and internet companies could potentially mean sites like this are more difficult to access or stuck behind a paywall or straight up censored altogether. Think about everything you hate about cable (movies being cut and censored, constant ads, and restrictive channel plans) and imagine that applied to the internet. If you're not in the US, you can help by spreading the word around. If you are, please call your representative in office and tell them that you support net neutrality and want to fight for it! For more resources and information check out this website: https://www.battleforthenet.com. And obviously I strongly support and suggest you doing your own research if you would like to. Okay, soapbox done. As always thanks for reading and please leave a comment if you'd like!


	9. What Dying Feels Like

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lars is tired. He pushes on.

Lars washed his faced and sipped cool water from the sink of the tiny bathroom that existed just off of Ronaldo’s room of the lighthouse. It was so small it could barely be considered a closet. Lars took a bit of toothpaste and gargled it in his mouth, but couldn’t get the taste of sour pennies to go away completely. The water didn’t help. It cleared his head of the haze of the energy drinks, but made his stomach hurt more, as though adding anything to it would upset the delicate balance, and sending it roiling in pain.

The pain in his head flared again to matched it, beat for beat, the ugly black tendrils of frantic fear and worry clawing at his most basic senses. Rutile. He had to beat back the instinct that was screaming at him to warp over there immediately. If Steven was still there, then the Rutile twins were in good hands, probably better hands than his. He didn’t need to warp over there, covered in vomit from the warp stream, if his stomach did vacate itself, and then have Steven and the Off-Colors fussing over him while trying to talk to Steven about his dead mother. A small part of his pride wouldn’t let him either, he didn’t want to explain what ‘vomit’ was to the Off-Colors, didn’t want to tell Steven that he resorted to self-destructively drinking until sickness to ignore his feelings. Lars pushed his shame back with a deep breath, knowing he was a coward for letting his worries about pride and Steven and _Rose_ trump his worry about the Rutile twins.

Even with that knowledge he ignored the warp. Rutile was in the safest place, with the safest person, and Ronaldo wouldn’t let him down, would get there as fast as possible without using the warp stream. He knew Rutile wouldn’t blame him. The Off-Colors generally avoided the Warp, because Fluorite was too big to use it properly, and Padparadscha didn’t like it any more than he did.

When Lars turned around, Rose was there, staring at him with her arms crossed, tapping her foot impatiently. “You ignored me for more than an hour.”

“My life doesn’t revolve around you, Rose,” Lars reminded her, pushing past her firmly and crossing the room with long strides.

On his way out a picture taped to the corner of the cork board caught his eyes, and he stopped very briefly to see it. Army and Leggy were smiling in front of the Eiffel tower, and while their smiles didn’t reach their eyes, they looked healthier than they had in a long time. Yellow Pearl was a blurry figure moving into the camera’s view, the frustration on her face obvious, considering she only went along as babysitter to the two rubies. And in the corner a smudge of blue thumb that revealed Blue Zircon was taking the picture. The war had been particularly hard on all four of them, and no one questioned their need for time away from the Crystal Gems and Beach City to adjust. They had started travelling, wanting to understand humans and their new home and simply never stopped. The Crystal Gems had only had to intervene a couple times to keep them from accidentally hurting themselves or other humans.

“We need to talk about Yellow Diamond, now.”

“In the car, Rose. You waited this long, you can wait a few minutes more.” Lars waved her off flippantly, slowly winding his way down the stairs and trying to keep his eyes fixed on one spot so he didn’t get dizzy and throw up.

“That man was the fry shop boy wasn’t he? He used to be so very small. Are you his best friend?” Rose chattered next to Lars as if she hadn’t heard him at all.

“Not here, Rose. Please, not here.” Lars almost choked at the way he begged.

Lars counted the steps. He went to ten then started again. After several repetitions, Rose was still babbling next to him. “Damnit, Rose!” Lars' shout echoed down the stairs.

“Let me have this.”

“What?”

“We’re going to find Steven, we’re going to get in the car and go to the barn and find him in a few minutes. I’m tired. I want to pretend all this stupid stuff isn’t happening. Ron and Peridot don’t know you, and I was never going to let you talk to Bismuth anyways. Can I just have one place where you aren’t making my life harder?” Lars groaned and stopped on the stairs.

Rose rolled her eyes, but fell back and stopped talking. Lars closed his eyes for just moment, reaching his hand out to steady himself on the wall. Then he sighed and continued down the steps, feeling slightly more at ease in the quiet. Lars’ stomach clenched again. The sixth energy drink had been a mistake. It had been a long time since he’d had that much to drink over such a short period of time.

Eventually Lars made it to the very bottom of the steps. The music had quieted to an implication, rather than a reality, and Bismuth and Peridot were deeply engrossed in some papers unrolled over the mess on top of the table.

“Why is the human eye so complicated? Nothing about humans suggested this level of complexity in their forms!” Peridot said nasally, her grip on her pencil so tight it threatened to break it in half.

“Why is this so important, little green bean?” Bismuth peered over Peridot’s tiny, quaking shoulders with only a modicum of interest.

“I am neither little, nor a bean. Though I will admit to the accuracy of my greenness. You should take advice from Amethyst regarding nicknames in the future.” Bismuth rolled her eyes and chuckled, and Lars swore he saw her mouth some expletive.

“Seriously, Peri?”

“I don’t want Buck to hate me.”

“Which human is that again?”

“The one with the glasses. The one that’s objectively cooler than all the rest of the humans, and nearly as cool as Garnet. He has a girlfriend and a boyfriend.” Peridot grumbled in obvious frustration, and did end up snapping her pencil in half finally.

“Oh, that meatball! He doesn’t even hate _me_ , little bean, why would he hate you?”

Peridot glowered at Bismuth, who seemed much too proud about her teasing for her liking. “I don’t know if I can fix his eyes! And I’ve discovered that humans become uncomfortable when you suggest removing body parts, even ones that are not functional anymore.”

Peridot slammed her head onto the table, groaning into the paper they’d spread out there. Bismuth patted the back of her head gently, shaking her own with a smile. Lars tried to take a step forward, wanting to comfort Peridot himself, and tell her that Buck was too cool to hate anyone, but he lurched at the first step and felt the bile rise in the back of his throat. Rose watched him with guarded eyes, and stepped forward to give his back a push. The sooner they left the sooner she could get answers.

Bismuth heard him. She looked up and their gazes locked. A lopsided smile grew on her face, and then morphed into concern as she took in Lar’s obvious queasy appearance. “You okay, Lars?”

“I should apologize, Lars.” Rose’s voice mingled seamlessly with Bismuth’s, both sentences locking together at his name.

Lars flicked his gaze to Rose, who had suddenly appeared at Bismuth’s side. Emotional whiplash was going to kill him one day, Lars was sure of it. What had caused her sudden strange change of demeanor – she’d been more than eager to let this particular interaction die, to move on with only a glimpse, a sprinkle of this future Bismuth, and nothing more, and then suddenly – he didn’t know, but maybe it was the expression Bismuth was making. Soft and caring, but with an edge of danger that said she’d destroy anything that threatened him, even if that thing was an abstract concept like a stomach ache or illness.

The lurch turned into a stumble, and suddenly Lars was leaning against Bismuth’s arm, and trying not to throw up on her. Peridot continued groaning into the table, oblivious to the rest of the world. Bismuth had moved so fast he hadn’t noticed, but once he was suddenly confronted with her arm, and at eye level with her gem, the only thought he had was the darkly comical: if I throw up on her, some of it will end up in her gem. How would you clean that?

“I heard you yelling up there, Chef.” Bismuth turned him around, a hand warm on his back. Lars leaned forward, hands on his knees, trying to keep his stomach from upheaving its contents. Another hand joined Bismuth’s, cool and soft, and he knew without looking that it was Rose.

“Ronaldo came down here muttering about ghosts. I heard you yell.”

Lars tried to swallow.

“I heard you yell about Rose.”

A cold sweat broke out on Lars’ neck, even as his face and stomach flamed. A weight slammed into his shoulders, the responsibility almost pushing him to his knees. At least Pearl, Amethyst and Greg had loved Rose, had been with her until the end, had not been thrown away and forgotten. If Pearl thought she’d need a week to unpack all her baggage with Rose, then Bismuth would surely need years. He didn’t think he could handle another gem yelling at him just then. Even if he was only a proxy.

“It’s okay, Chef. You don’t have to tell me. I’ve made my peace with her. She’s dead, and no ghost will change that, Lars. It’s the living that have a problem with me.” Bismuth’s arm had moved around his waist, keeping him from collapsing onto the workshop floor.

It was too much for Lars. Bismuth shifted subtly, but it dug into his stomach. Her gentleness, the sudden freedom from Rose’s ghost lingering in the air – her hand was on his back, and it still felt so, so heavy – Bismuth aware, but giving him permission to forget about it, slammed into him harder than the worry about telling her about Rose had, and combined with the sick, black worry for Rutile.

With tears pricking his eyes, and shame burning his throat Lars threw up on the workshop floor, splattering his scuffed shoes, the bottom of his pants, and Bismuth’s feet. It took everything he had to stop hot tears from joining the puddle of sick on the floor, and he held back heaves as he forced his way out of Bismuth’s grasp.

Peridot had finally noticed, and scrambled down from the table with wide, concerned eyes. Lars was panting, gaze flitting from one gem to the next. He scrambled for the door, struggled with the knob for several seconds, and then wrenched it open. He had to scream at his body to get it moving.

“Sorry,” He blubbered out, stopping to see Bismuth holding Peridot back. Then he threw himself into the cool night air.

 

 

Lars made it to Ronaldo’s Jeep before collapsing to his knees and vomiting repeatedly into the dirt. When even his pathetic empty dry heaving stopped, Lars rolled over onto his back, the patchwork of stars above him blurred through his tired eyes – and immediately felt better. It was like he had expelled all his bad feelings at the same time as he was spilling the contents of his stomach, and he laughed at that thought, even as his abdomen pinched in leftover pain at the motion.

Lars recovered quickly, and pulled himself into a sitting position, just as Ronaldo was coming around to shove a warm bottle of water into his hands. He drank the entire thing slowly and his head cleared. The endorphins from vomiting, from the relief, had wiped away the horrible cloying shame. It helped, too, that neither Bismuth nor Peridot had come after him.

When he opened his eyes again, Ronaldo was waiting with both hands outstretched. Lars handed him the empty bottle, and took his other hand, letting himself be pulled to standing. He tried to lean subtly against the car, knees wanting nothing to do with walking, but Ronaldo noticed.

“I’m ready to go if you are.” Ronaldo walked slowly to the drivers’ seat, patting the car with a fond smile on his face the whole way.

It was a terrible car, really, but Ronaldo had bought it on his own, and was too proud of that to tolerate anyone dissing it. The Jeep was a tank, its large wheels perfect for travelling the less dense parts of the lemon tree forest. Ronaldo had the uncanny ability of always knowing which trees he needed to drive between and which roots he could go over without too much trouble. It was a beast on gas though, guzzling through it like a dying man in the desert who had just found water.

Lars picked at a rust spot on the car, and moved to open the door. Usually he’d just jump into the car, but he wasn’t feeling well enough at that moment to do so. His fingers brushed the black spot on the door where the paint had caught on fire when the gas tank nearly exploded – Peridot had attempted, only once, to convert the car to run on corn, which they still had a ridiculous amount of – and a wry smile crossed his face. It was safe to drive again now, Steven had made absolutely sure, but Lars couldn’t help the intrusive thought of how ironic it would be to die in a Jeep that exploded compared to everything he’d been through. How absolutely mundane.

“I might throw up again,” Lars said, as he settled himself across the entire backseat. He pulled his long legs in a bit when Rose, concerned and angry, sat next to him.

“This car is ninety-five percent plastic and duct tape by now Lars, I can just hose it off if you do,” Ronaldo caught his eyes in the rear view mirror as he adjusted it. Lars merely nodded in response, and Ronaldo shifted into gear and slowly pulled away from the lighthouse.

“Not going to tell me to buckle-up?”

“It’s not like you’ll do it. I just won’t go fast enough to let you die.”

Lars grunted in response. Soft music started as the Jeep hit the first of the roots of the forest, and Lars felt the car rumble and roll beneath him, but felt safer than he had in a long time.

“Not this anime crap.” Lars suddenly realized what they were listening to and leaned over to the front of the car to thumb down the volume of the ‘Captain Luna’ theme song.

Ronaldo rolled his eyes, and matched the teasing tone Lars had adopted. “Fine, you can choose the anime crap we listen to then.”

With one hand Ronaldo reached to the floor of the passenger seat and pulled up a worn cardboard box, which he practically dumped on Lars’ lap in the back seat. Lars sat up to rummage through and laughed hard. “You made anime mix-tapes? On cassettes, Ron?”

“This car is older than our parents. All it has is a cassette deck.”

“You got ‘Wicked Seraph’s Premise’?”

“Yeah, and the rest of the soundtrack. The cassettes are alphabetical, Lars.”

“I was just checking, man.”

Lars could feel Ronaldo roll his eyes as he pulled the cassette out of the box and leaned forward again to switch it with the one already in the deck. The familiar tune washed over him, and he hummed it along with Ronaldo, remembering long nights of his bloodshot eyes, and Sadie’s yawns, when they were marathoning hard anything they could get their hands before Lars went back to school and they didn’t see each other again for months. Ronaldo always brought up how mainstream the anime was, even though Lars knew he liked it just as much as he and Sadie did. Robots, aliens and existential angst made a good combination.

“We don’t all have time to get into every obscure anime that falls from the sky, Ron,” Lars reminded him, finally settling back into the hard seats, his eyes roving over to Rose.

“Watch the road. I have a ghost to lecture.”

Ronaldo merely turned the volume up another couple of notches, eyes laser focused to the forest ground, intent on giving Lars what privacy he could in the back of his car. He hadn’t been lying, he’d never mention to anyone what Lars said there. But he also wouldn’t feel guilty about thinking about it privately.  

“So, I see Bismuth is unbubbled,” Rose said slowly, a plastic smile spread across her face. “And it seems like her and that adorable Peridot got along well. And making limbs for humans that’s –”

“Cut the crap and ask your questions, Rose.”

“What happened here? Who shattered Yellow Diamond?” Rose’s voice was small and hollow. She didn’t really want to know, hoped Lars would smirk cruelly and laugh, telling her he had been fucking with her for a lark, to rile her up, but she knew that wasn’t the case. Which gem would she have to reconsider? Whose rosy smile would she have to replace with pain and crying in her mind? She didn’t want to know, but the conversation in the forest, from hours ago, still burned brightly in her mind.

Selfishly, Rose hoped it wasn’t Pearl. She didn’t think she could stand to know that Pearl had had to make a decision like that. Pink Diamond’s shattering had almost destroyed her, had almost shattered her, not physically, but metaphorically, even though she had not been the one to do it that time. She couldn’t fathom Amethyst either, sweet, laughing Amethyst, making the decision, holding the responsibility of the taking the consciousness of another gem and snuffing it out. Garnet, perhaps. Garnet could do it. She didn’t want that either, because Garnet could, but she’d break apart after, Ruby and Sapphire both guilty in their own way, unable to cope unless they were together, holding each other, but not together and lost in Garnet, blurring as one being.

Maybe it had been the peridot. She was small, and cheerful, but Rose knew not to underestimate appearances. Maybe one of the other amethysts, the jasper, or carnelian. Or the gem Amethyst had called ‘Laz’. If that was the same Lapis Lazuli that Rose thought it was, then Yellow Diamond would’ve been in for a reckoning indeed. Some dark part of her hoped it was Bismuth, hoped the very gem who had suggested shattering in the first place, who had created a weapon to do so, whom she had saved from sin, and locked away to keep her innocent, had become as tainted as Rose had been after Pink Diamond. It rankled Rose to know that even if that was true, Bismuth wouldn’t be a hypocrite at least, unlike her.

The look Bismuth had given Lars hurt. It was tired, and warm, but not nearly as fiery bright as Rose remembered. That fire had been snuffed by lies and betrayal, by hypocrisy and cowardice. Bismuth had known, well, maybe not known fully, but had suspected, had heard the name ‘Rose’ uttered from Lars’ frustrated lips, and still decided to set him free. Still decided to release him from a burden that never was his to begin with.

It hurt Rose’s heart to be reminded again that Bismuth was stronger than her, better than her. Rose was the one dragging Lars around on a mission that was never his to begin with, was the one hurting his relationship with gems and people that were more his family than hers. Bismuth set him free, let him go without any pain. 

“Wait don’t tell me!” Rose blurted it out, realizing she couldn’t do it, couldn’t have the image of another one of her family tarnished in her eyes.

Lars blazed. “You lost that privilege hours ago, Rose!”

She’d lost it when she left him floundering, staring slack jawed as she offered nothing and let Greg tell him he was broken, and then again when she had no words he could give Amethyst to help her, and even further in the forest, playing twisted games with his head.

Lars hurt. His stomach ached from the vomiting, the static in his head had never really retreated and the tiredness in his limbs had settled deep within him. He wanted this to be over, hoped Steven was at the barn, hoped he could finish this and then go home to Sadie and let her take care of him until the dawn broke and he’d have to get up and fix the mess he’d made of so many relationships.

Lars shifted in his seat, and became aware of his surroundings again. The boughs of the trees were dark above him, and the forest loomed around him, cutting him off from the stars and fresh air. Ronaldo was fiddling with the music, skipping several songs, and then there was silence. Lars thought the tape was over, but then a soft melody and barely spoken words hit his ears. Ronaldo smiled from the rear-view mirror. It was the final episode. A monologue. The boy decided he wanted to live. While Lars still argued with Sadie and Ronaldo over what the show meant (and secretly wondered if they could really know what anything meant; in their early twenties they were still basically kids), he definitely knew how the boy felt. He had never wanted to die, never contemplated it, though he knew if things were different he might’ve, but he had been there and back to dark places in his psyche. The boy chose action, he chose to live. Lars decided he would choose action too.

Screwing up his courage, Lars turned to fully face Rose and looked her in the eye for what he was about to tell her. “Jamie was a friend of Steven’s. Wrote plays, real artsy. He was a good guy. Delivered mail for a while. He died about half way through the second war. Steven couldn’t bring him back, not with tears, or spit or anything. He wasted his gift on me, Rose.”

“The people of Beach City had refused to evacuate when Steven told them, when the first attack was about to come. This city can be pretty lame, but we were going to fight for it, for our home, for Steven. He hated it, but he couldn’t make us leave. Even after Jamie died, none of us would leave like he asked. We only held firmer to our goal, to protect the place and people we loved. And Sadie would've helped a lot of other people kick my ass if I had even considered running away. Which I didn't by the way.”

A particularly large root pitched the car, and Lars was airborne for a second before slamming back onto the hard seats. Rose didn’t move, her face guarded and unreadable as Lars continued his story.

“Steven disappeared for three days after Jamie’s death. And when he came back, it was with Bismuth.”

“I don’t know what he told her, but she behaved. Gem weapons weren’t an option for us humans, and most of the corporeal weapons left over were either too big or in too bad of shape to be useful to us. And human weapons seemed to have little effect on the gems we were fighting. Jamie poofed three rubies with a broom, but it wasn’t easy, and maybe if he’d had a shield or real weapon he’d still be here. Even Vidalia’s shotgun didn’t seem to slow the gems down. We needed weapons that could actually poof gems, we needed a blacksmith, and Bismuth was it.”

The car suddenly sighed onto asphalt, to roll smooth and quiet through the night. Lars hadn’t noticed Ronaldo stop the car or get out or unlock the gate. It felt like barely anytime had passed since they left the workshop, but, he remembered, they were in a car and time worked differently in the lemon tree forest. Lars’ watch said it was after eleven. Ronaldo picked up speed, taking the limit as more of a suggestion than a rule. The cassette clicked and then looped back around to begin again.

Lars switched it with the soundtrack for ‘Cut or Be Cut’, and smiled at Ronaldo as he did so, who gently sped up even more. The landscape around him whizzed by quickly, and the empty, open road to the barn stretched out before them. Lars hoped Ronaldo would take his suggestion about leaving Beach City. They could drive up together, take a road trip, and forget about the city for a few days.  

Rose leaned over from her perch in the back seat and ran her finger up Ronaldo’s prosthetic; he didn’t react in the slightest. Lars figured that for all the nerves Peridot had managed to pack into it, that however perfect Ronaldo claimed it was, it might never be as good as his real arm was. It made Lars feel horribly guilty. Ronaldo said over and over that he wouldn’t have it any other way and would make the same choices over again, but Lars couldn’t help it, couldn’t stop looking at his own pink skin, perfect and unmarred except for his scar over his eye. Bruises faded quickly, broken bones set and healed themselves in days, his body simply kept on living, even if it was a half-life.  

“Ronaldo, can I tell Rose about your arm?”

“Hell yes! I brag about it all the time Lars! I got it saving you, people dig that.” Ronaldo tried to put as much enthusiasm in his voice as he could, to remind Lars that he didn’t blame him and to not feel guilty about it.

“I leave out the part that it was you though, that I saved. We don’t need tourists thinking you need help.”

That sentence crushed Lars with even more guilt. “You can tell people about that, if you want Ronnie. I wouldn’t mind.”

They nodded at each other and Ronaldo went back to driving, and Lars went back to Rose.

“The final battle was terrible. Yellow Diamond shattered with a burst of blinding light. Buck barely managed to shield Jenny and Sour Cream – his boyfriend and girlfriend – and he lost his sight to it. Sour Cream got tinnitus so bad he didn’t rave for months.” Lars’ voice took on a low, hollow ring, grief and guilt lacing every word.

“Without their leader most of the Homeworld forces retreated. But a few stayed to fight to their last with nothing left to lose. We pushed them back. I… screwed up, like always. Pearl and Garnet told me to always watch my back and I forgot. Ronaldo saved me, but he lost his arm. The battle really ended then.”

“I don’t think the Homeworld gems understood that much about humans. And that they could die. If they cut off the arm of a gem, that gem would just poof and be back in hours or days. There was so much blood. And the ruby that did it, lost it. I’ve never heard a noise like that. It’s like she finally realized what she was doing when she saw Ronaldo not poof and blood pour from his wound.”

Lars heaved a little, recalling the scent of copper in the air, the look on both their faces as everyone panicked to stop the bleeding, and save Ronaldo. Rose looked pretty green herself, horror settling into her bones. At least it hadn’t been another thousand years of ravaging, was Rose’s only consolation.

“The other injuries – Doug Maheswaran lost his leg and the ones that got Jamie – had little blood involved, so I think for many of the gems it was the first time they had seen any, let alone that amount. That ruby screamed, and the gems left in horror, and we’ve been free ever since.”

“We lost some good gems too though. These three rubies switched to our side – Doc, Army and Leggy – and we couldn’t save Doc from the cracks in her gem. We lost her, and we haven’t seen Army and Leggy since. They stayed on Earth, but they’ve also stayed away. My friend Blue Zircon went with them. She’s a lawyer, and good at solving arguments. Yellow Pearl got left behind and is still bitter about it, but she makes a good babysitter for the three of them. Maybe one day they’ll all come back. But for now it’s like we lost those four too.”

“And my good friends, Rutile and Rutile got corrupted. But them we saved. The Rutile Twins were the first successfully healed corruption that Steven managed. Sometimes she regresses though, and he needs to help her again. That’s hopefully what he’s still doing right now.”

“How come he didn’t help Ronaldo? Surely his healing powers could’ve worked on your friends arm?” The raw disappointment in Rose’s voice stung Lars. How dare she, he thought. She didn’t have the right to be disappointed in the son she hadn’t even met yet.

“Steven was knocked unconscious when Yellow Diamond shattered. He didn’t wake up for a week. No Steven, no healing spit.”

“But my fountain?”

Lars scoffed, annoyed. “Your fountain made everything worse, Rose. When Yellow Diamond found out about it, she craved it. That sort of healing power would let her run her troops ragged. They wouldn’t have to hold back since they were on a foreign planet and had to ship their limited resources in. If they had gotten the fountain all would’ve been lost. And we didn’t have the forces to defend it forever. It was awful, but Pearl and Garnet destroyed it. The only way to keep it from Yellow Diamond was to keep it from ourselves.”

“No. No.” Rose covered her eyes with her hands, squeezing them shut as fat tears rolled down her cheeks.  

“But destroying it left us incredibly vulnerable. We had already been barely holding on before Yellow Diamond found out about the fountain. But after? After, we had to end the war. Bismuth was right about one thing. It wasn’t a fair fight.”

“We ambushed Yellow Diamond and one of us shattered her, Rose.”

“Don’t tell me, please Lars. I don’t want to know.”

Lars was about to open his mouth, to spill the secret that he’d been dangling in front of Rose for hours when –

“Uh, hey Lars, we’re here.” Ronaldo was fumbling awkwardly with his keys, and digging in his glovebox for a pad of paper and pencil. He didn’t want to interrupt what was obviously a serious discussion, but the tension in the car had grown thick and he had to cut it somehow.

“Thanks, Ron. Do you think you could stay? I might need you to take me back.”

“Of course.”

Lars opened the door to the car, breathed in the scent of the cool night air, the fresh dirt and the crops still growing in the field. Mixed in to all of it was the smell of charcoal and chocolate. Lars looked to Rose, small and pitiful in the seat next to him. She had hardened her expression, and he supposed she had learned to do that from all the suffering in the first war. She already knew how to handle these things. Lars took a deep breath and told her who it was, the thing that none of them discussed anymore, the elephant in every room that they all ignored. Sharing burdens was supposed to make them easier to bear, and yet every time he told someone new about Yellow Diamond, it only seemed to hurt more.

“Rose.”

“Stop Lars.”

“Yellow Diamond was shattered by Steven.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, this is a very very long chapter, but I couldn't figure out a good spot to split it, and truthfully I didn't really want to split it. Also, Pearl points to whoever can correctly guess the anime references I made in this chapter. The only prize is pride that you're better than someone else though. ;)
> 
> I've been looking forward to writing and sharing this chapter with you guys for awhile, (like I've had it planned since almost the beginning) to finally give the payoff to all the hints I've been laying down. I have a lot to say for this chapter. I fully believe all the town would rally behind Steven in a second war, because he means so much to them (I honestly believe this is what RS is building up to with the townie episodes). So, we finally got to the big reveal and this chapter, I think, is where I gain or lose people with the idea of Steven being the shatterer. I did this for three reasons: 
> 
> 1\. It parallels nicely with Rose being forced to shatter for the greater good.  
> 2\. I like to put characters through the emotional gauntlet. I'm a sucker for suffering.  
> 3\. SU has a lot of parallels to AtLA. The one thing I've always disliked about AtLA is that they copped out and gave Aang a third choice in the end. I wanted him to have to choose, to go through the emotional turmoil of choosing between his deepest convictions and saving everyone. War is ugly and has consequences and I love when kids media shows that, that no one is free of difficult decisions, no one gets to make the black and white choices. My plan from almost the beginning of this fic was for Steven to have had to shatter Yellow Diamond as his only option to save everyone he loved and held dear. 
> 
> Next chapter: More on Steven and the consequences of everything that happened. Lars finally snaps. Rose is yelled at. The Off-Colors show up (Yay!).
> 
> The next chapter may not be out for a week to two weeks-ish. Pride Week is starting in my city soon, and this will be my first year where I am out and participating, so I want to go HARD. I'll still be writing this, but not necessarily as diligently. 
> 
> As always thanks for reading, and leave a comment if you'd like!


	10. The Fell Clutch Of Circumstance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lars sees the Off-Colors and everything is good. Until it isn't.

Grace and coordination abandoned Lars the moment he tried to step out of Ronaldo’s car, and his feet tangled, leaving him lying face first in a patch of dirt grown damp with dew with the rest of his body trapped in the car.

“I hate my life.”

Ronaldo didn’t laugh. Much. Lars picked himself up with as much dignity as he could muster, and managed a little chuckle. His muscle shirt was only a little soaked, and would dry quickly, but there was an ugly brown stain right on the front, and he groaned.

The groan was immediately replaced with a smile when Lars looked up to see the Off Colors. They had set up blankets and a small, crackling fire a little ways away from the barn. Fluorite was roasting six marshmallows at once, and Rhodonite was roasting two sticks of her own – one for herself and one for Padparadscha, who always took her marshmallows off the fire too late to be edible. Padparadscha was happily holding a gooey cooling marshmallow, and was just about to put it in her mouth, after she remarked about how nice and warm it was and thanked Rhodonite.

A sweet fizz filled Lars’ chest, like fireworks popping through his body as he took in the quaint scene. The Off Colors loved Earth and all the gems and humans on it. Much of Rhodonite’s manic nervousness had calmed down from the freedom Earth provided, and Fluorite had seemed to slow down even more with nothing to worry or hurry for. Time still lagged for Padparadscha, but she had never seemed unhappy, and Lars thought that perhaps she smiled more.

Rhodonite looked up, smiling from Padparadscha’s thanks and both sets of eyes lit up when she saw Lars grimy, clammy and smiling. He stopped smiling for only a second, before it forced its way back, fighting it and wondering why he was doing so. An almost painful joyful grin crossed Lars’ face and his feet were moving without him realizing.

Rhodonite abandoned her sticks and marshmallows. The gap between them shrunk quickly and then Lars was being smothered in a four armed hug. Rhodonite twirled him, and then threw him, catching him in her arms and repeating the move.

Lars giggled, and wasn’t ashamed to admit it. “Rho, Rho, I missed you too, but I’m not feeling well today. Please stop throwing me.”

Rhodonite stopped immediately, catching Lars bridal style, his legs held by her lower arm, while her upper arm wrapped around his shoulders. She gave him a light squeeze as she put him down, and backed up an acceptable distance. Lars appreciated her intense respect for boundaries and personal space. She was certainly better than a lot of humans were when it came to ‘no’.

“Well, I’m okay with the hugging for today, I just don’t want to be tossed around.”

Rhodonite beamed again, and pulled him into another hug with her lower arms.

“Lars and Ronaldo are coming to visit.” Padparadscha smiled brightly and finally joined in on the conversation.

“That’s right, Pads,” Lars smiled at her as he untangled himself from Rhodonite to pick her up. It was a minute later when she hugged him back, clinging fast and fierce to him in his arms. She’d missed him.

The other gems finally looked up and noticed the Jeep, and Ronaldo looked up and gave a wave. “Hi girls!”

“Hi handsome!” Fluorite shouted with a wink.

“He has a girlfriend Fluorite.”

“I’m allowed to look.”

“Maybe next time, Fluorite!” Ronaldo shouted back. It was a running joke between the two.

Lars smiled at Fluorite and laughed with her, then shifted Padparadscha to hang on his back and threw himself at Flourite’s midsection, hugging her as best as he could.

“We missed you, Lars.” Her slow drawl was comforting in its familiarity.

“I was only gone for eight months. We video chatted once a week!”

“It’s not the same as you being here.” Rhodonite leaned against Fluorite beside Lars.

Lars breathed deeply, the scent of the campfire and marshmallows familiar and nostalgic. He was almost fully leaning against Flourite and she had curled around to wrap all three of them in as best an embrace as she could manage. Padparadscha was heavy and solid on his back, unlike Rose from hours before; it was real and consoling in a way Lars realized he had desperately missed. A surge of affection zipped through him. Padparadscha was a capable gem, despite her differences, but Lars couldn’t help thinking of her like a little sister. He wondered for a second what his life would’ve been like with a little sister, but then squashed that thought as quickly as it came. The old Lars would’ve made fun of Padparadscha, most likely, or abandoned her if he thought it would gain him favor with the cool kids. There was no use dwelling on that disappointing chain of what-ifs, when he had Padparadscha’s esteem in the present. So he hadn’t grown up with her as a sister? So what? They had their little family now. The smile on his face as he processed that threatened to explode, and he leaned into Fluorite further to avoid the others seeing it.

“Eight months is so much longer on Earth than Homeworld.” Padparascha’s voice was bittersweet.

The fizz came back to Lars’ chest. The Off-Colors were thousands of years old, almost unfathomably old to him, and yet they missed him even after eight months, a mere blink to them.  

“I missed you all too. So much.”

It was true. Lars didn’t hate college parties, but there had been more than one where he wished he was back at home, with Sadie or at the Temple or with the Off-Colors. The childish part of Lars that he usually kept in check suggested ditching the whole finding Steven plan and sitting with the Off-Colors to roast marshmallows and then tell stories. And when they got bored of that, gathering Pad onto his lap, leaning against Fluorite, with Rhodonite and the twins beside him, they’d go stargazing. Lars would make up constellations and stories about them. He was still waiting for the inevitable payoff when the Off-Colors eventually mentioned his made up constellations to a horrified Pearl or annoyed Peridot. Maybe Rose would even let him do it if he let her join them. It was likely she knew more about space than him, but maybe he could amuse her enough to get away with continuing to make up stories.

The day crashed back quickly into his mind, and knew he couldn’t do that. Rose was too set on finding Steven, and he knew the childish part of him was in the wrong for suggesting it, for wanting to so desperately ignore it and hope the problem went away without his involvement.

“Today is the worst day ever.”

Rhodonite made a confused noise beside him. “But it’s after midnight. I thought that was the marker between one day and the next on this strange planet, not when the sun rose each morning. You just got here, as it was starting, surely it can’t be that bad.”

Lars looked at his watch.

“It’s a new day everyone!” Padparadscha announced from behind him.

It was 12:17. A new day indeed.

Disappointment settled over Lars again at not being able to see his friends until his mission was done. He grunted in response to Rhodonite’s still hanging question. She accepted that answer, and went back to leaning next to him with her arms crossed. His brand new day should’ve been good, not filled with more garbage. He should’ve been stargazing. The Off-Colors loved the canvas of the sky, a canvas they had lived without for millennia. It humbled Lars every time, and reminded him not to take it for granted. He sighed at missing it. It might’ve even allowed him to sleep peacefully for once, something he had not enjoyed for a long time.

Sometimes, before the war drenched his dreams with blood and gem shards, Lars would fall asleep squished between the Rutiles and Rhodonite as they all sat leaning against Fluorite. When he woke up it would either be in one of the cool, dark Kindergarten holes, lying on soft things and covered by a thin blanket Steven had brought him – he had mentioned to the Off-Colors that he felt comfort in small spaces only once, but they had never forgotten – or it would be in Rhodonite’s arms. She’d apologize every single time as he blearily blinked himself awake, saying they’d had to get moving for their safety, but didn’t want to wake him. Once he had woken to Rutile struggling to figure out the most efficient way to carry him and –

_Rutile._

Lars’ throat felt tight. He whirled around, careful to not hurt Padparadscha as he did so, an unintelligible garbling coming from his mouth. Rhodonite and Fluorite both flinched, all of their eyes widening equally. It was possible that Lars would be sick again as guilt crept into his stomach. His worry for Rutile had faded to the back of his mind during the conversation in the car, and the joy at seeing his friends again had erased all other emotion from his head. And while he had been doing that the Rutile twins might’ve been scared and screaming, even with the comfort of Steven there.

“R-rutiles?” His voice was a squeak when he finally managed to get his thoughts under control.

“In the loft with Steven.” Rhodonite’s expression darkened. “I’m sure they’ll be okay. They were all the other times.”

Lars didn’t reply, but took off in a gangly run. He doubled back hard when he felt Padparadscha’s grip loosen – she was evidently getting off his back to let him go to the twins, but her lateness would’ve dropped her to the ground like a stone – and he reached around to grab her and pass her off to Rhodonite. Then, with renewed effort, he sprinted the short distance to the barn.

The barn had been expanded slightly to make room for Fluorite, though much of the rest of the exterior remained the same. Lapis and Peridot had gifted it to the Off-Colors, declaring that they didn’t need it anymore, and hoped other new gems could learn to love Earth there. The little pond had been kept, and there were still vegetables being grown in the fields.

Most of the redecorating had happened on the inside, and Lars took in the familiar place as he jogged through the barn. A few leftover meep-morps from Peridot and Lapis remained, and the Off-Colors had added many of their own. They shared most of the space, but it was clear the spots that they had eked out as their own. Padparadscha collected broken timepieces – clocks, watches, sun dials, smashed hour glasses, and even a fancy radio whose only function was flashing 7:18 constantly. Rhodonite loved books and had mastered reading and writing – written language took a lot of time to learn, unlike oral language which gems were programed to learn in a matter of hours for ease of communication and conquest of other species – the fastest out of all the gems. She had a constantly rotating stack of novels, most of them being romance, and Lars chuckled every time he noticed one of the less seemly books in the stack.

Fluorite was simply happy to be together and exist as herself. Her space had a small relaxing fountain, and many blankets and pillows, but was otherwise meagerly furnished. She had professed to being more interested in taking care of the other Off-Colors and making sure they were happy and had lots of things. Possessions didn’t make the gem, she had said, though they were nice.

The Rutile twins had clothes. And that was where Lars found them. One of the twins was humming as the two of them stared at an absolutely overflowing wardrobe. Rose smashed into the back of Lars, but he barely registered it as he watched.

When Peridot had first introduced the twins to ‘appearance modifiers’ they had grabbed them, and then walked away looking thoughtful and forlorn. But when they returned they were ecstatic.

“These fragile cloth garments are amazing! – we can each express – the parts that make us individual – but also remain as one – so we don’t have to be either one gem or two – we can be both.”

Clothing had also been the greatest boon when the twins were first healed from their corruption. They had been deeply ashamed and embarrassed at the left over scales that still glimmered on their arms and up their sides, and the sharpened canines that had never left their mouths after, a sick reminder that they had lost control and almost hurt their friends. The best description Lars could think of for the creature they had lost themselves to during corruption was a wyvern – two headed, angry, their arms becoming wings and their legs growing wicked claws, and gleaming red scales bursting up their body and becoming hard gem growths of rutile.

After Steven had healed them – they finally realized that spit could only heal the physical side, and that the mental side of the problem needed more care – they had hid in their wardrobe, cowering amongst the clothes and things that brought them comfort. No matter what Steven or Connie or any of the other Off-Colors had said, they refused to come out, even covering their ears and squeezing their eyes shut at one point to ignore the others. It wasn’t until Lars had arrived that he managed to coax them out – he told them it was okay if they felt ashamed of their body, they didn’t have to like it right away and that there were some days he didn’t like his body either. Steven had looked at him uncomfortably, the message at odds with what he had been telling the Rutile twins – that there was nothing wrong with them, and they had nothing to be ashamed of – but it had worked, the twins opened the door and let Lars help them out of the wardrobe.

“We can learn to love the parts of ourselves we can’t change together,” Lars had told them.

The clothes let them hide the parts they disliked the most and instead express themselves in garments that made them feel good. Lars was shaken out of his remembrances when the twins finally turned around and let out an excited ‘eep’ at seeing him.

The one twin was wearing a leather jacket and plain white t-shirt, and black checkered bandana, while the other twin had shades, a chain necklace, two rings on the fingers of her hand, and a muscle shirt that said ‘Your daughter calls me daddy too.’

Lars barely held back his laughter, certain that it must’ve been Amethyst that gave them that particular piece of clothing and that he was going to have to explain why they probably shouldn’t wear it in public or in front of Connie’s parents. He also wanted to know what movies they had been watching to start dressing like that.

“Lars!” Their voices chimed in unison, and they smiled at him.

“Hey.” Lars rubbed his arm awkwardly, pointedly ignoring eye contact. Rose had stepped forward to stand beside him, and he chose a point on the ground by her bare feet to stare at.

“I – uh – heard what happened,” Lars muttered awkwardly, not sure how to breach the sensitive subject when it looked like they had put the worst of the feelings behind them and were trying to feel better. “I came as fast as I could.”

The Rutile twins burst into frenzied speech that bounced quickly between the two of them. “We’re fine now. – Yes, perfectly fine. – It’s silly – We shouldn’t have regressed in the first place – it was a dumb fight and – our mental stability slipped for a minute – it was my fault – no, it was definitely mine – I aggravated the issue – but I started it – but I know you hate talking about it and I pushed anyways – I didn’t tell you to stop.”

Lars interrupted them. “You two look nice. Seriously.” Lars was the one to initiate the hug that time, and they squeezed back hard. Through their clothes Lars could feel the spots where scaly gems had erupted through their skin as they regressed and was glad he hadn’t seen it. Eventually the worst of it would flake off, leaving them with only the flat scales on their skin.

“Steven took care of us. – He was very kind.  – Very quick. – We didn’t suffer for long.”

“I wish you didn’t have to suffer at all.” Lars pulled back to look at both of them, and they ducked their heads from the intensity and sincerity of his gaze.

“Everyone suffers. – Everyone has their burden.”

“If I had been here though –”

“It still would’ve happened. – Yes, you can’t always be here for us. – Your food school is important. – Don’t blame yourself, Lars. – You’re an Off-Color – and we always stick together – even if we’re far away – you came to check on us – and that’s important.”

“When did you two get so wise?” Lars asked, wiping at his eyes.

“Oh, it was probably around the third millennia of our existence – no, no, the fourth!”

Lars laughed at the joke, until Rose nudged him in the side. “Rutile, Rutile, I would love nothing more than to hang out with you guys and talk, but I have a mission I’m on. I’ll come back soon though, okay? I got you all some presents too.”

“Ooh, a mission. – Presents! – You got us something? – What kind of mission?”

“I have to find Steven.” Lars felt some of his manic worry return to him. He was so close.

“Oh, he’s up in the loft. – Still there. – We – Well, when we were corrupted again – we kind of – made a mess,” the Rutile Twins couldn’t meet Lars’ eyes through their embarrassment.

Lars knew what they meant. There were still scratches in the barn walls from the last time they had regressed, even though Steven had done his best to find posters and things to hang up and hide them with.

A thump from the loft grabbed both gem and human attention and four sets of eyes looked up. Lars licked his lips. Steven was right there.

Lars was at the ladder before he even realized he had moved and Rose was next to him, wide eyed and thrumming with excitement. It was a few rungs up the ladder before Lars could stop himself and hang by one arm to look back at the Rutile twins. There was an obvious left over rawness in the way they held themselves, even with clothes on their bodies and smiles on their faces. They’d had just as bad a day as him, it seemed, although he hadn’t caused it this time.

“Hey, remember what we agree on every time this happens?”

The Rutile twins sighed. “It’s okay if the only people we take care of today – are ourselves.”

“Yeah.” Wish I could do that, Lars thought to himself. Then he pushed it away. He only had to be responsible for a little longer. Then he was done, he was free.

“It’s okay for you too, Lars,” Both twins chorused in unison and Lars climbed the ladder with renewed vigor. It was okay to take care of himself once his task was done.

In a few moments he’d see Steven for the first time since he got back to town. “Steven!” he screamed, hoping the young man would pop his curly haired head over the ledge with a laugh.

They’d both smile and then Steven would reach down to pull him the rest of the way up with his gem strength. They’d talk about nothing for a while and catch up, Steven would ask him how he and Sadie were doing and whisper ‘OTP’ under his breath. Perhaps they’d spend time with the Off-Colors and Ronaldo. With a little coaxing Lars knew he could convince Steven to ditch whatever responsible gem thing he had to do and go to his house to play videogames all night and pretend they were both young men instead of weary war heroes. Then in the morning he could invite him to stay for breakfast, and – no, it wouldn’t go like that Lars knew. It wouldn’t go like that at all.

The seconds after Lars yelled were heavy with his impending responsibility and it took more effort than usual to reach the top of the ladder. When he did he saw with sickening dread the backside of Lion retreating through a portal – a feat he himself had never figured out how to do – and a few of Steven’s long flowing curls being carried with him.

Lars yanked himself over the ledge and ran at the portal, trying to grab it, get into it, screaming until his lungs burst, “Steven!” but his fingers closed over cool empty air, and the loft was filled with only the echoes of his voice.

"So where's Steven?" Rose asked from somewhere behind him.

Something in Lars snapped.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I said we'd see Lars confront Rose and more info about Steven, but this chapter got long with the Off-Colors and last chapter was already 5.5 thousand words, so I thought a shorter, breezier chapter with the Off-Colors was called for instead. I was going to wait until the next chapter was done so I could release them in quick succession, but it's still Pride week here and it's going to take awhile because I'm busy with that, so I thought I'd release this in the mean time. 
> 
> I'm not sure if I love this chapter as much as I would like. The Off-Colors are amazing, but we've only seen two episodes of them as a group, with little time to focus on their individual personalities, so I'm not sure if I've done them justice here, especially since in this fic they only have a small part to play. For that reason and because part of the dialogue style for the Rutiles is inspired by thelittlemerms 'Always be an Off Color' (and chapter nine and ten are fantastic for Lars' individual interactions with the Off-Colors), I'm going to recommend it again, if you didn't check it out the first time. Seriously, their portrayal of the Off-Colors is really good. 
> 
> Next chapter preview: Lars lays into Rose. There is punching and sadness.
> 
> Also, that promo, am I right? 'Lars of the Stars'? That's some good shit right there. And, finally, thanks for reading, and leave a comment or critique if you'd like, y'all are lovely people.


	11. Flatlining

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lars punches Rose. Rose punches back. But the words hurt worst of all.

“Steven is gone.” Lars ground his teeth together, fists clenching at his sides.

“What do you mean gone?” Rose asked, looking genuinely confused and apologetic.

“He’s fucking gone, Rose! He just disappeared into one of those stupid portals that I could never get right and is who knows where.”

“I mean, you’re his friend, surely you have some idea about where he is?”

“I’m not his keeper, Rose! He could be anywhere by now! The Temple, the beach, Connie’s, some crazy gem place I don’t know about!” Lars grew hysterical as he paced the tiny loft space.

“I don't have a magical gem checklist of Steven's day plan! Wait, could Pearl make me a magical gem day planner or map of Steven's exact whereabouts at all times?” He laughed sardonically at that suggestion.

“Be serious, Lars.”

“Serious?” Lars stopped on a dime, then stalked over to Rose, shoving his face into hers. “You want me to be serious? I’ve been running all over this damn town and creation to try and find Steven, just so you can talk to him, and ruining my relationship with all of my friends and you think I’m not serious?”

Lars grabbed his doppelganger by the shirt and lifted her easily with his hands, pure rage upon his face. “I’m just as devastated that I lost him through that portal as you are. So. Fuck. Right. Off.”

Lars dropped her hard and smiled as she landed flat on her back. As she picked herself up off the floor she bit back a grimace and straightened with propriety. Lars watched the calm and collected way she got up, wondering if it was some of her leftover leadership skills at work. She had led a rebellion and a war to success after all.

Rose quickly dashed what little respect Lars had left for her in that moment when she grumbled under her breath, “Maybe if you had spent less time talking to the fry boy this wouldn’t have happened.”

Lars shook. Then he took three deep breaths. _Don’t hit Steven’s mom, don’t hit Steven’s mom._ He chanted the mantra in his head until he calmed down and was able to look at Rose again without feeling so angry he thought he might pop.

“Maybe if you had been useful in the first place when I was talking to Greg we would’ve found Steven a lot sooner and then we wouldn’t have to be around each other any longer.” Lars wasn’t able to stop the bitter tinge to his words. He had missed Steven by a few seconds, and it burned.

Lars felt his frustration grow, and that only made him angrier, his whole psyche turning into a negative feedback loop. He might find Steven, if he went to the Temple. Of course that meant dealing with Lapis Lazuli. Or he could be at Connie’s house, but that was fairly far away and if Doug answered the door he’d only be reminded of the war again when he saw his prosthetic leg. And it was nearly one in the morning.

All he wanted to do was go to Sadie’s house. Or even just home, where he would huddle under a blanket until daylight, and see if his mom could make him hot soup and listen to his troubles. If he was really desperate he could try and gather the Cool Kids and see if they could just drive and blast some music until he stopped thinking.

“I’d hardly call myself useless,” Rose muttered with a roll of her eyes still dusting herself off.

That was the final straw for Lars. “Are you blind or just stupid, Rose?”

“Excuse me, Lars? I know you’re upset, but that gives you no right to talk to me like that!” Rose pulled out her leader voice, trying to show that she would not tolerate insubordination, but she still respected the position of her opponent.

“No. I’m stopping you right there, Rose.” Lars felt all the anger in him boil over. There was no stopping the tide of his emotions from pouring out in a wave that threated to drown them both.

“You don’t think of anyone’s feelings but your own! If you did you’d realise you can’t just do whatever you want all the time! Just because you can do something doesn’t mean you should! In however the hell many thousand years you’ve been alive you haven’t learned that yet?”

“What’s so wrong with what I want, Lars?” Rose screamed back at him. “How is it wrong to want to see my son again, to talk to the people I loved and know how they’ve changed in twenty years?”

“After everything we’ve seen today you still don’t understand why I still don’t think you should see Steven? Why I’m only doing this for him? When this is over you get to leave, but I have to deal with the aftermath. You clearly haven’t considered what I’m going to go through because of all of this. I basically _broke_ Amethyst! Pearl is probably singing and crying somewhere, Greg hates me, and Bismuth certainly isn’t having a good time, and you think Steven would be any different?” Lars’ voice grew in pitch and intensity as he spoke, taking a step forward for every step back Rose took, unwilling to let her run away from him.

“You left the gems with a baby they didn’t ask for or understand. Do you not see how your lack of communicating with them left them broken? I came into their weird little family more than a decade after you died and even I could see what it did to them! Your lover for thousands of years admitted that she’d need a week to unpack all the baggage you left her with and you think your son wouldn’t suffer at all for your coming back?” Lars’ throat ached from his yelling, fingernails clenched into his fists and close to drawing blood. He felt hysterical.

Rose averted her eyes guiltily. She wrung her hands together before answering Lars, and when she did it was shy and ashamed. “I honestly just expected everyone to be overjoyed to see me again. Especially Steven at getting the chance to meet me. Because I’m overjoyed to meet them.”

Lars slammed his fist into the wall of the loft because there was nothing else for him to hit. Pain blossomed hotly in his knuckles and it brought him back to reality, grounding him in its harshness. “Do you have any idea what Steven has gone through in the last twenty years because of you?”

“You left him a war, Rose! He was fighting gems at fourteen! Do you know what I was doing at fourteen?”

Rose shook her head seriously.

“I was playing videogames until my eyes bled, spray painting abandoned buildings to look cool, and teasing Sadie because I didn’t know how to deal with the fact that I liked her, and dressing all in black because I thought I was deep and smarter than everyone else! You know, the things normal fourteen year old boys do.”

“I never meant to leave him a war.” Rose was crying again, but Lars had grown numb to it, even if she looked like him.

“Yeah, well you did. Steven tried so hard to escape your legacy and become his own person and for a long time he never could. He’s just starting to learn how to be free of you, Rose. Even if he did the same things that you did, had to make the same choices, he’s learning that he isn’t you. You coming back will just send him spiralling.” Lars grew quiet again, voice sore. He slumped against the nearest wall, taking comfort in tracing the wood grain.

The silence dragged on for a long time, but Lars’ anger didn’t dissipate. He felt it start to fester. When he continued speaking it was clipped and unnervingly calm.  

“There was one night, after the war, that Steven asked me why he was born. I couldn’t answer him. God, I still can’t, I’m only twenty-three, how the hell am I supposed to know? He said you gave him a tape, saying you had him because you wanted to, and not just to fulfill some great destiny. But he couldn’t understand why you’d do it knowing you’d die, why you would just leave him with his dad who could barely take care of him and three gems that either wished he was you or were so blinded by grief and confusion that they were barely there for him. He practically had to parent them! Why was he born, Rose?”

“I just wanted to create, instead of destroy. I wanted to make something that could choose to be whatever he wanted. I just wanted him to have it better than me.”

Lars exploded. “He’s never had a choice in his goddamn life! None of us do! Not really. We didn’t ask to be born and once we are we’re never really free. We had our parents and societies expectations to follow, just as much as gems had their programming. I mean, I don’t blame them, what parent doesn’t want great things for their child? And it’s impossible to be completely neutral towards their life and choices. But humans aren’t as free as you think. You traded your life for an ideal that doesn’t exist, Rose.”

“And honestly?” The loft thrummed with the echo of Lars’ ragged whisper, and Rose gulped. He wrapped his arms around his stomach, and his eyes fell to the floor. “I haven’t told anyone else this, but I’ve always been a little jealous of the gems. You knew exactly what you were supposed to do the moment you came out of the ground. You fought for the chance to be something greater, to have choices and to grow and change. And yet, for all the gems you saved… All of them stagnated when they got here, repeating pointless cycles over and over again, without learning anything, but still being content somehow! Pearl, Amethyst and Garnet didn’t choose, they just had the illusion of choice, and they were still happy with that! I wanted that! I’d trade anything to know what I’m supposed to do, who I’m supposed to be. Having choices sucks, Rose.”

Lars balked at her horrified expression, quickly adding, “I know it’s wrong to think that way, Homeworld was awful and I’ll never really understand everything you went through. I know how terrible they were to gems who were different, and that not being able to live how you wanted burned. I know it, but I can’t stop the thoughts sometimes.”

Conviction came to Lars throat, stoked by his anger and he continued, arms unwrapping from his midsection to point accusingly at Rose. “You got the best of both our worlds! You knew your purpose! You had a design and a goal built in, but you also had the chance to make decisions! And you threw it away, you wasted everything you had, just to martyr yourself, just to keep running away from your problems and everything you did! I can’t believe you thought your life was bad enough that throwing yourself and everyone else out the window was acceptable just so you could make someone with choices. You didn’t have Steven for him! You had him for you! You were so broken from the war and the ugliness of the gems that you turned away from that! You had Steven so you could leave your problems behind and pretend they didn’t exist. It wasn’t you that helped anyone, it was Steven! Steven helped Pearl move on, helped Amethyst with her self-esteem, brought Bismuth back and did a hundred other little things that you couldn’t, even though you had your precious ‘choices’ that you fought a war for! You wasted your choices. You took everything you had for granted. You didn’t deserve it. You wasted it.”

By the end of his rant, Lars’ voice was hollow and bitter, the rage inside of him boiling just under the surface. He glared at Rose, waiting for her to deny everything he had said.

The expressions that warred across Rose’s face were familiar to Lars. It was like looking in the mirror all over again. The look was fear and contempt mixed together. Rose knew he was right, but refused to entertain that thought, couldn’t bear to think that she had caused so much pain and suffering to others, that she was actually as bad as he thought.

For a second it seemed like Rose was going to consider his words, and fall silent into introspection. That hope was dashed when her face twisted. Lars knew that one as well. She doubled down and lashed out at him instead because it was easier than looking inward at all that she had done.

Her voice was shaky, but accusatory. “Wasted! Screw you, Lars. You only think you know me. Like you said, you’re twenty-three, just an insignificant human, with an insignificant life. You have no idea what I’ve seen through millennia. Do you have any idea what I gave up to be able to choose? What I gave up for Pearl, Amethyst, Garnet and Steven? You’re just an ungrateful brat. You’re the one taking your choices for granted. Maybe Greg’s right. I don’t think you’re unfixable. But if Steven hasn’t managed it by now, I don’t think he’s going to anytime soon.”

The reminder of what Greg said was heavy. Lars couldn't stop his ragged breathing. He felt so much rage, wanted to break and destroy something so badly, but he refused to let himself become the person who broke something of the Off-Colors'. He would be better, he deserved better, they deserved his best. And his best meant not breaking the few meager things they had finally gotten the chance to possess, to own, when before they had only owned themselves. Lars settled for breaking Rose instead. 

“Bitch.” Lars growled, and threw himself at Rose who by then was at the edge of the loft. Her eyes widened as he jumped her, and they fell down together. Rose hit the ground hard, knocking the wind out of her, but not enough to stop her from using the momentum to her advantage. They bounced and she took the opportunity to turn them over, leaving Lars to slam into the ground on the second impact. He rolled dizzily, dragging Rose with him.

Clawing at his arm, Rose tried to disentangle herself, but Lars’ grip was iron, and he twisted the nearest bit of her skin he could reach until she yelped in pain and stopped. He punched her in the stomach so hard Rose saw diamonds behind her eyes. Barely recovered, she jumped at him and cracked her fist into his face. Her intention hadn’t been to break his nose, but the sickening crunch when her fist landed revealed that she did, and they both froze in shock.

Lars brought his hand to his nose tentatively and flinched when his fingers brushed it. It was definitely broken. Thick clots of blood were pouring from it, staining his mouth, chin and hands. He wiped them with his muscle shirt, which had come untucked from his pants in the scuffle. With a gulp that tasted horribly of copper Lars took his nose with one hand. He took a steadying breath, dreading the act of setting it back in place – he had to do it quickly, with how fast his body healed, or else it would be crooked forever – and yet knowing that the fear of it was worse than the pain was going to be.

Lars tried to remember who had set it the last time he broke it, and found he couldn’t through the bleary haze of the pain in his nose. It was either Connie or Garnet. With the puzzle of who it had been as distraction, Lars set his nose back in place and only just stopped the howl that threatened to tear from his lips. He pounded the ground with his fist until the worst of the pain faded, and then dug into his hair for the first aid kit he had started keeping in there since the start of the war. When it was finished, Lars took another breath and looked down at Rose, still tangled around his body in shock.

The rage inside of him flared again, stoked by the lingering pain of his nose, and he rolled the two of them to their knees. Rose yanked his hair until he jammed his arm under her chin with enough force to dislodge her, and then threw himself at her, following the momentum he already created. Rose bit him hard on the arm, but not hard enough to break skin, and she was nearly to her feet, when he yanked her legs out from under her and sent her crashing to the ground.

Lars latched on to Rose from the back, pinning her arms at her sides in a solid grip that she struggled to escape from, and was trying to push her down until she surrendered when a sudden huff of breath above him quelled his feelings.

The Off-Colors stared at him with a mixture of expressions, Fluorite with curious indifference, Padparadscha with a carefully neutral expression, Rhodonite with concern and the Rutile twins with warm understanding.

“Is this what Corruption looks like in humans?” The left twin asked, holding out her hand to him in a gesture of care.

Lars panicked, his entire world shrinking to pinpricks at the word ‘Corruption’. He released Rose, fell onto his butt hard and scrabbled backwards in a strange crab walk away from her, breathing hard as he deflated. He suddenly was struck with what he had done.

Rose gingerly picked herself up, dusted herself off and then began to limp away, with only a long lingering look of disappointment, guilt and anger directed his way. As Lars watched his body double walk away he was struck with the violence they had both committed against the other. It scared him that it had felt good, at least while he was doing it. He knew he should get up and run, grab Rose’s arm and fix everything, but he had started to wonder if maybe he had been right all along. Maybe Steven shouldn’t see his mother. Lars couldn’t stop himself from giving up, even as he hated himself for it.

He looked at the gems again and the word ‘Corruption’ echoed in his brain. The Off-Colors knew his moods well from their time on Homeworld together, his depression, anger, loneliness, guilt, and acceptance. They knew his rage too. He had snapped so cruelly at Rhodonite once, very early in their friendship, that he caused her to unfuse, and he had vowed to never let his feelings get out of control again like that. If he hurt someone it would be because they deserved it, not because he couldn't keep his anger in check. Yes, the Off-Colors knew his moods very well, so he wasn’t truly that surprised that they thought he might be corrupted – or at least as much as a human could be - because his sudden strange rage that seemed so similar to the random changes in a gem. 

Physically he was roughed up, injured with his nose still oozing a trickle of blood, a dark bruise forming where Rose had bit him, and other minor scuffs and scrapes littering his body. And most importantly, Lars remembered then that he was the only one that could see and touch Rose. To the gems he had been fighting no one, and the injuries he received seemed to come on suddenly from nowhere, with his behaviour raging and seeming crazy. _Maybe I am Corrupted_ Lars thought to himself, barely daring to look at the new expressions on the Off-Colors’ faces.

When he finally steeled his courage, he almost couldn’t believe his eyes. The Rutile twins had kneeled closer to him, both hands still outstretched, and they, along with the others, held no pity or contempt in their eyes. The genuine care and kindness Lars saw overwhelmed him. He certainly didn’t feel deserving of it in that moment.

The well of emotions broke, and Lars let out a mournful broken sound and bawled. The day crashed over him again like waves, causing him to burst into tears just as he was calming down over and over again. The shame just made him cry harder and he couldn’t stop it, wailing like an inconsolable child. He wiped the tears and snot from his face with his already ruined shirt several times, until his eyes were red and puffy and his already aching nose threatening to erupt in blood again. Even when his tears were entirely spent he still felt hysterical.

“Lars?” The right Rutile twin was incredibly gentle as she kneeled next to him, touching his shoulder carefully.

Lars looked into the faces of both twins, knowing that they were the ones that likely understood him best at that moment, since they dealt with re-occurring Corruption themselves. The gentle kindness in their eyes just made it worse, reminded him that he wasn’t as kind to himself as they thought he deserved and that maybe if he was, his life would be easier. He doubted that though. He was a coward. He was giving up, and running away with his tail between his legs.

“I just want to go home,” Lars admitted through his tears to them, and they gently helped him to his feet.

“Okay.” Fluorite soothed Lars with a kiss to his forehead. She frowned when he didn’t pretend to be embarrassed or wipe it away. “Did you want one of us to walk you?” 

Lars looked the four of them over again. Padparadscha, as sweet and kind as she was, couldn’t help her late predictions and Lars worried it would just send him spiralling again if she said something on the walk home. Rhodonite cared in her own way, but she could be fussy and bossy when it came to helping him and he didn’t think he had the fortitude to deal with that. Fluorite was usually a fount of good advice and knew when the appropriate time for silence was, but he didn’t want to be a burden on her. And while the Rutile twins understood him best of all, he knew they were still reeling and healing from their own brush with Corruption just hours prior. He would walk himself home. He hoped they’d understand.

Lars gave a slow, deliberate shake of his head to Fluorite and she smiled back at him. Lars let the twins and Padparadscha hug him, taking the small comfort he could from them, and then he turned to go, shoving his hands in his jean pockets and slouching to make himself small.

Reality jolted into him when he almost ran into Ronaldo’s car. The other man was asleep in the back seat, limbs askew and a line of drool snaking from his mouth to the floor. Lars gripped the window well tightly, emotions stopping his mouth and limbs from waking his sleeping form. He didn’t want to face Ronaldo, and his kind, but probing questions.

“We’ll take care of him. – We’ll explain.” The Rutiles had joined Lars silently, and he jumped when they spoke.

After a curt nod he turned away from car, human and gems alike. With plodding, heavy steps he started the long walk back to Beach City, the words 'coward' and 'quitter' echoing through his brain. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, everyone! Sorry this chapter took so freakin long! Pride happened and then I got the last minute surprise chance to go home and see my family, so I had to scramble to prepare for that and now that I'm home I've been so busy that it was hard to get back into the swing of writing again! Also I wanted this chapter to be really good, so it parts of it took awhile. I'm so excited we've finally got here, Lars rips into Rose! This chapter was the first one I wrote in my head and basically inspired the creation of this entire fanfic. This chapter is dedicated all of you commenting (you know who you are) to tell me how you wanted this chapter and everyone else who wanted it too. I hope it's up to snuff. Also, we're officially past the half way point! Yay! 
> 
> Also, yes, I totally think Rose would patiently wait for Lars to fix his nose before continuing the fight. 
> 
> I think that's about it for this note. I have another chapter fully written, but I'm debating the logistics of it and if it still fits tonally with what I'm going for, so you all might get another chapter very soon! Or I may scrap it after all, and it'll be a week or so before the next chapter. Anyways, as always thanks for reading, and leave a comment if you'd like!


	12. Fever Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lars hates sleeping because his dreams are often far from pleasant.

Lars could see himself, but also was himself. It was as though he were floating, third person, above his own head and observing his reactions, but was still himself. He felt warm, and good and – beautiful. That was odd, but he shrugged it off, watched himself move his hand, observed from his eyes and above.

Lars was a mosaic of colors, but at his core was the soft pink he had become so familiar with. Splotches of other colors covered his whole body, bleeding pink at the edges. Every time his thoughts shifted the colors he held did too. Things were usually one color, but people were more.

Rutile – red, gold, and brown suffused Lars’ form and he laughed. The sensation of the colors changing was pleasing, and he flipped himself, floating weightless in the space.

Pearl – white, blue, yellow, and pink – but it was a sharp, sickly pink, so sugary and blinding it hurt – splotches raced across Lars’ body and a rush of endorphins and differing emotions curled him into a ball, rotating slowly without control in the space.

Steven. Lars exploded with color. Fuschia, neon green, teal, lilac, magenta, a thousand pinpricks of light and color spectrumed across his body, but the tiny slow beating seed of soft pink at his center was all his. Endless fractals of light and color etched their way across his skin, wonderfully scorching and frosty at the same time. Lars uncurled, still spinning, floating spread eagle in empty space.

Suddenly a bright light blinded him and he shielded his eyes, but from the perspective above he watched in slow growing horror as an inky shadow spread out behind him, stealing some of his colors, and growing until it was solid. The silhouette was eight feet tall, with bouncy curls, full bodied and with a lovely, bloody smile on her face.

It was Rose. She cackled, shoved her hand through Lars’ chest and pulled at the colors in him, her form shrinking and twisting until she was a corrupted doppelganger of himself, all the colors that had been his belonged to her, but they were tinged grey, and the bleeding red of her mouth dripped from her smile. Her core was a swirling grey too, and she flashed in crackling spurts from kind and sweet, to malignant and angry.

Lars clawed at his head as he watched it happen, his body growing translucent, but for the tiny still beating pink core.

Steven tumbled into the space from somewhere, even more vibrant and brilliant in his colors than Lars had been when he thought of him. He smiled when he noticed the Lars that was actually Rose and the real Lars tried to move or scream, but his limbs were heavy and foggy.

He could do nothing but watch helplessly and flail as Steven went to take the outstretched hand of Rose, tricked into greeting her as his old friend. The moment they touched, the grey leaked from Rose and filled Steven’s body, drowning his colors in inky blackness. Rose seemed to fill Steven with herself, and the more she disappeared the more Lars reappeared, his own colors leaky and runny. His body was like putty or paint and he tried to walk as he melted.

Steven turned to him, his whole body blackening, including even his own pink core. He shrieked at Lars, who clapped his hands over his ears, but couldn’t stop the sound. From above himself he watched Steven harden like a rock, and huge cracks form over his body. As he stomped towards Lars pieces of him started breaking and falling off, his shrieking reaching a fever pitch.

The sound formed words. “I hate you!” Lars whimpered and cried, his body melting faster and pooling around himself. He couldn’t walk anymore.

Steven reached him, tried to hit him with his blackened hand, but it shattered and fell to pieces in the pool of color that was Lars. They broke together, two lost souls screaming in unison.

 

 

Lars woke with a shout.

“Laramie, sweetie what’s wrong?” His mother asked, taking a sip of tea a moment later.

“Laramie?” Lars noticed his throbbing head first. It was quickly forgotten when he noticed the rest of his surroundings.

The landscape was pastel, cartoon and slick like plastic. Staring at it too long hurt his head more, so he turned back to his mother. Martha Barriga was the only normal looking part of the scene, though her body seemed hazy at the edges, and she looked young, the way Lars remembered her in half visions of his youth.

“You were having a bad dream. It must’ve been simply awful, Larsy-warsy.” Lars gulped, and felt someone latch onto his arm. The voice sounded familiar though he had trouble placing it through the exaggerated falsetto. When he turned he tried to scream, but his body refused. Sadie was wearing a massive, frilly pink and teal dress, and she tittered up at him, as she squeezed the life out of his arm.

“Who are you and what have you done with, Sadie?”

“Nothing, snookums, I’m right here to make you all better. You just let me do everything and I’ll take care of all your problems. You won’t even need to thank me.”

Lars shuddered bodily, and tried to move, but was still locked in a sitting position. They were on a hill, he noticed finally, on a soft checker print pattern blanket. The weather was perfect. His mother and girlfriend were there, and the food laid out on the blanket looked more delicious than anything even his teacher had cooked.

And yet despite how perfect it should’ve been Lars couldn’t and didn’t want to push away the prickle of discomfort. He was getting his bearings and the first thing he was going to do was remind his mother not to call him ‘Laramie’. And then figure out what happened to Sadie, because it wasn’t the woman he knew. It didn’t happen though, because he fell back into disorientation when he finally took in his own appearance.

His skin was back to its pre-pink tone, and he had been so used to the change that the original was almost jarring. His clothes were lederhosen and clogs adorned his feet.

“I’m not even German!”

A sound broke him from his thoughts, and he saw Pearl and Garnet ride by on a tandem penny farthing, Pearl in frock coat and knickerbockers, but Garnet clashing in fashionable disco clothing. He rubbed his eyes and they were gone. After a slow, sluggish blink they had been replaced in his vision with three rapidly approaching figures.

All of them were mounted on lions, but only one, in the middle was Lion, pink and regal in the blinding haze of the landscape. Steven rode Lion and was flanked by Peridot, grinning haughtily, and Lapis, looking as dead and uncaring as usual. They had on crisp red uniforms, (Lars struggled to place where he had seen them before and in what context, though his gut was telling him to pretend it was all very silly, despite that he was interested in what the campers were going through. Campers? The thought was blotted out by the sun, shining off a bit of metal) with mirror shiny buttons, pins, and non-descript medals. And hats that always made him laugh. Steven usually laughed too, but this time he wasn’t even smiling.

A dark edge smoked in his gaze that he levelled hard at Lars, and he gulped, even as Sadie’s clutch on his arm grew ever tighter.

“That’s him!” Peridot’s normally nasal tone seemed muted, and Lars unconsciously leaned forward to hear better.

Lapis’ voice knocked him back, being the opposite, her deadpan delivery filling his ears in a discordant drone. “Yes, that’s the deserter.”

Blink. Lars felt his wrists burn from a tight rope tied around them, as they were forced behind his back. Blink. He was gagged. Blink. Ankles tied together. Blink. Thrown on the back of Lion in front of Steven.

“What are you doing to him?” Martha was standing in front of Steven, looking even older than normal, stress etched on every feature.

“Oh, stop, please, someone save him, save me from this!” Sadie’s falsetto reached fever pitch, but Lars couldn’t cover his ears. It was so distinctly un-Sadielike that it dug at his very soul.

Peridot pulled out her tablet, made a few swipes with her gloved fingers, cleared her throat and then declared, “Lars Barriga is a deserter in the gem war, he would rather run away than continue fight, claiming that it hurt too much to continue on. We are here to drag the dodger back.”

“Please, Steven, you can help him.” Martha was crying, dark clouds setting over her, and turning the landscape inky and black. “Tell them to let him go, you’re the leader, you have that power! I’m his mother, and I don’t want my baby boy to die! He’s just a human, Steven!”

Steven smiled wickedly. “Why should I help his mother? He never helped mine.”

Lars tried to scream as he watched his mother devolve into hysterics, begging on her knees for his life, offering Steven anything he wanted, anything he could command of her.

Steven just laughed as his fist smashed into Lars’ head and the world went dark.

 

When he woke up, he was marching. He was pink again, and wearing the tattered remains of the outfit he’d had on when he first ended up on Homeworld. Blood stained his shirt, the pattern exactly the same as the one that had formed from the spray of blood from Ronaldo’s stump. On all sides, faceless soldiers marched with him and in their hands they held gem destabilizers. The only movement he could make was with his eyes, the rest of his body locked in step with the others around him. He strained and saw a destabilizer in his own hands, thrumming and pulsing with energy. The only sounds were the thuds of feet on stone, marching in endless rhythm.

Time shifted as the edge of his vision grew hazy until Yellow Diamond loomed before him, an army a million strong shrieking and running behind her. In mere moments they would reach him, and cut him down with all the rest, trample over him as inconsequentially as he trampled the grass at the park.

With supreme effort he wrenched his head up to look into the paralyzing gaze of Yellow Diamond, wanting to see his better if he was going to die. The boredom on her face sickened him. He was inconsequential, an ant on the forest floor, unaware of the giant creatures above him, who were similarly unaware of him as they crushed him to a pulp beneath their feet. He would die because he must. It was as simple as that.

But Sadie wouldn’t. The thought raced through him in a second. He knew she was there, and she melted into the scene, dangling from Yellow Diamond’s grip kicking and flailing. He refused to fail her this time. His body started working, and he was running, throwing the gem destabilizer behind him, and shoving through the sea of bodies in front of him. When he pulled himself up and jumped over the writhing mass of bodies, he knew it was a dream, but that didn’t give him control. He felt himself reach for wakefulness, but was dragged back into the dream every time his feet touched down for a brief second before jumping into the air again.

Sadie wiggled her body and managed to drag her hand free of Yellow Diamond’s grip, tears at the corner of her eyes as she reached for Lars. They would fight together this time. He wouldn’t be a coward. He wouldn’t run away.

Their fingers brushed. And Lars was sucked downward as the ground cracked to reveal a gaping abyss beneath him. As he fell he watched Yellow Diamond laugh, and Steven sitting on her shoulder, pupils like diamonds, laughing with her as he was pulled flailing into the abyss.

 

 

Lars fell head over heels for so long he lost track of time, blowing around like a tumbleweed, feeling the aching fear of the nightmare that wouldn’t end. It was perhaps worse that he knew it was a dream and couldn’t do anything about it. Even telling himself it wasn’t real didn’t dispel the horrible dread that he felt clinging to every part of him. Every time he was rolled around to look down the terrifying dropping-of-his-stomach feeling would return and he would shake and cry as he tumbled until it started all over again.

Eventually the all-encompassing darkness began to bleed with a soft light and Lars felt his descent slow, and his tumbling halt. His eyes locked in position as in front of him a shadowed figure in pirouette started to move so slowly and gracefully he wondered if they were actually underwater. As she flowed into the light the dream became vivid, burning the image into him. The ballerina was beautiful, with short coral pink hair, but she eschewed the typical norms of frill and lace, dressed in a crisp princely jacket, epaulets and buttons gleaming. The jacket showed off her muscles, and all the power tucked into her tiny frame. The bottom of the jacket flared out over her shorts with a bit of lace, and it and the ballet flats were the only traditional parts of the ballerina.

The light beneath her feet stretched and grew suddenly as she danced, lighting the way and showing her where to go. At the end, waited a shadowed figure, taller, broader and with hair that cascaded like a waterfall. Every step closer that the ballerina got seemed to banish some of the darkness. The ballerina’s moves became hesitant, but she seemed determined to bridge that distance, to bridge the gap, and wipe away the fear. Lars hoped she’d make it.

His gaze was forced away as he fell again. When he stopped it was a child’s birthday party, where a purple clown with soft white hair was entertaining a small cherubic boy with curly dark hair. He giggled and laughed at everything she did and even the older children seemed amused by her antics. A bit of the fear in Lars ebbed as he watched.

The drop made him want to vomit as he was violently torn away from the scene and forced to a new one. An old man was dying, but his giant of a son was there to hold his hand as he went. A bittersweet ache filled Lars’ chest so strongly that he wasn’t even mad when he was torn away from the scene again.

The breath left his throat as he watched a dreadlocked rebel rise on shaking knees again and again, even as she was pushed down, kicked, spit at or stomped on. Still she rose, holding a tattered banner high. Lars tried to rise as she did, reach for the way out of the inky blackness of his mind into the waking world, but he was thwarted again, and torn into falling so fast he had to squeeze his eyes shut.

When he stopped abruptly, suspended in the blackness in a strange pose, he dared to look down. The four scenes were beside each other, still playing out in silence, and the terrible sensation of falling finally stopped. Until an inky figure invaded each of the four scenes at the same time, eight feet tall, with tight curls, soft curves and an easy smile. Lars knew that figure and his breath quickened as he was forced to watch.

It blocked the path of the ballerina, and though she could most likely push through its inky veneer to the other side, it threw her off balance. Lars couldn’t tell if she’d be able to recover. The clown was desperately trying to regain the audience that the shadow was antagonizing. Balloons popped, water exploded in from somewhere and the figure whispered rotten somethings to the little boy and each of his guests. The son was torn from the dying man’s feeble grasp by the figure’s strong hands, even as he fought and reached. And the rebel, triumphantly planting her flag on the hill didn’t see the figure behind her with an inky dark sword about to plunge in her back.

Lars watched the inevitable happen in tandem, as his stomach dropped, the ground beginning to rush at him once more. The four figures merged into one, who reached to the sky with open arms for him. They collided together, taking each others’ hands at the wrists and falling together.

As the wind in his ears howled Lars watched the inky shadow of Rose Quartz slowly change into his own shadow and melt into his form, his body rotating slowly as he was pushed until he was looking straight down at the welcoming ground. As it rushed terribly towards Lars he realized the truth: Rose had been there, but he had said the words, had made the choice to tell the others, had ran away. It was him. He made the ballerina self-destruct. He made the purple clown cry. He left the old man without closure to die. And he stabbed the rebel in the back.

Lars shattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is weird. I was hesitant to include it, only because it feels different to the rest of the chapters, and it makes the timeline of events much less straightforward, but I decided to do it anyways, because I quite like the jarring effect of skipping right to Lars' dreams and then explaining what happened before in the next chapter. Which will also contain Lars finally getting the care and encouragement he needs in this fic. 
> 
> Also this chapter was incredibly fun to write! I love exploring dreams, and wanted to capture both the weirdness and nonsensical-ness of them, while still keeping their often symbolic nature intact. There a lot of little details in this chapter that don't mean anything, like in a dream, but there are also some parts that definitely hint at what Lars is feeling after everything that has happened. 
> 
> Also the ballerina's (Pearl) outfit is totally inspired by Utena from RGU and the SU and and RGU crossovers are my favorite thing ever. Seriously, check out all this amazing art: https://revolutionarypearlutena.tumblr.com/
> 
> As per usual, thank you for reading, and leave a comment if you like, I love reading them!


	13. Dead Boy Waking

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lars, Sadie, Martha, and a little bit of self-care.

Lars woke up with a gasp, floundering on the cold floor of the Miller’s basement. He’d fallen off the couch. A deep melancholy settled in his bones, smothering him as thickly as the blanket he had become tangled in. Lars hated waking up sad and not knowing why. His dreams rushed back to him with pinprick clarity. Lars hated waking up sad and knowing why even more. Perhaps he just hated waking up in general, which was why he didn’t sleep anymore.

The dreams, mixing cruelly in his mind, but no less clear, had him up in a crouch in a second. It didn’t matter that he told himself they were just dreams, he couldn’t cast off the oppressive weight they held. In the chill of the basement he shivered bodily – Barb liked it cold, and the ancient air conditioner she splurged on wheezed out cool air with long hisses – used to his parents’ house where they turned up the heat even in the summer.

Lars pulled the blanket Sadie had given him more tightly around his naked body, and some of the chill was chased away, but not where he needed it. The ice in his veins and head wouldn’t be thawed by a blanket. Even the comparatively warm summer air outside would do little to warm that chill.

Lars scrambled for his watch; in the dark it glowed a fuzzy 5:46. He’d managed four hours of sleep at least. Getting to his feet Lars pulled the blanket up over his head and held it closed near his neck, padding on bare feet to Sadie’s room. She was sound asleep, death gripping a pillow close to her (usually when he slept over it would be him in its place) and Lars felt relief surge through him. Sadie was safe and alive; breathing softly and hopefully dreaming of nice things.

Lars felt a sudden strong urge to take care of her, the same way she always took care of him when he needed it. Self-care had never come easily to Lars, and sometimes he needed reminders, instructions or permission. Their relationship thrived on mutual self-care. Every time Sadie took care of him, Lars learned a little more how to take care of all the people he loved. When Sadie or Steven or Pearl or his parents needed him to remind them to care, he had vowed he wouldn’t fail them.

Which was why he knew he had to call home. Sadie, Steven and his friends were safe, and knew he was safe, but he suddenly realized that his parents had no idea where he was or what was going on. The peacefully sleeping Sadie he was observing was far from the Sadie of his dreams, and that Sadie faded easily. But his mother’s face, teary and pleading was impossible to forget.  

Tiptoeing away from Sadie’s room, Lars trekked upstairs, thankful that Barb had a landline and that she was away for a postal conference for the week. Lars hesitated at the phone, feeling silly. His problems were his own to solve. But then he remembered what the Rutile twins had told him and grew bold as the images in his dream played back again. He needed the phone call. Hesitation stilled his fingers again once he lifted the phone to his ear. The answering dial tone quickly faded into the background of his mind, dreams playing in loop, overlapped with the memories of the day. Until those memories hit his arrival at the Miller house.

 

 

A small rain cloud had passed over Lars as he walked back to Beach City, followed by a flock of seagulls, which meant that when Sadie opened the door to her house she was greeted by his shivering, bruised body, slicked with rain and wearing a shirt covered with blood and bird poop. Sadie ushered him in quickly, any annoyance at being woken up by his pounding of the doorbell forgotten when she took in the state he was in. The absolutely broken look on his face nearly kills her.

“Sadie. I couldn’t do it. I gave up.” Lars broke into fresh tears the moment she put her hand on his freezing arm.

Carefully leading Lars to the bathroom so she wouldn’t have to leave him alone, Sadie pulled out the largest, fluffiest towel they had. “Lars?”

The question hung in the air for a long minute while Sadie patiently waited for Lars to respond. Eventually he sniffled and nodded. Together they pulled his shirt off, and Lars chucked it immediately into the waste basket of the bathroom – he knew if he didn’t Sadie would try to wash it for him and he didn’t want her missing any more sleep than she had to.

“I don’t wanna talk about it!” Lars suddenly declared.

“Later then.”

Using one hand on his stomach and the other on his arm, Sadie guided him to the toilet and he sat on the closed lid, their skin meeting in a burn of hot and cold. Lars toweled himself off as Sadie examined him, making sure he wasn’t broken. He didn’t have the words to tell her that it was on the inside, instead of the outside. He suspected that she already knew that though.

“Lars, baby, would you like to try and sleep?” Sadie stepped back from examining him, as he pulled the towel tightly around himself to hide his body.

Sleep was terrifying and alluring all at the same time. Lars didn’t need to sleep, at least not for the reasons humans needed to, but he had enjoyed it. Once. Before the war. Before the nightmares and fever dreams. But it also meant forgetting. And that time would pass without him being there. All the endless hours between him and being free of Rose would vanish in an instant with sleep.

“Yes.” Lars loosened his grip on the towel to slump forward and Sadie filled the gap, letting Lars lean into her warm embrace.

“Bed or couch?”

“Couch.”

Lars looked away when he answered, ashamed. He didn’t want to be held. He didn’t want to be lying next to her and wake her up when he screamed or cried from the terror of his dreams. Sleeping next to someone, or cuddled in their arms was a good experience, Lars had come to learn and he loved it on the few occasions where he didn’t have nightmares. But he didn’t feel good. He didn’t want to feel good. He wanted to feel numb in the drug of sleep.

Sadie, his Sadie, understood. Lars loved her all the more for it.

“I’ll go get it ready. You make yourself comfortable.”

‘Comfortable’ meant to whatever level of disrobing he could handle based on how he was feeling about his body on any given day. It was ceaselessly unchanging. Lars couldn’t grow his hair, couldn’t get fat, but also couldn’t bulk up. Injuries healed and faded quickly, leaving his body in the status quo it had begun the moment he was brought back to life. Most days he liked it, but some he couldn’t stand to look at it. Those days he wore more layers than necessary and videochatted the twins or tried to cover his face with makeup to look normal. At that particular moment in the Miller’s bathroom, Lars was too exhausted, wounded and mentally unhappy to even think about having reservations about his body. 

Sadie slipped out of the bathroom quietly, as Lars began to strip out of the rest of his wet clothes, hanging them on the shower rod in an attempt to dry them. Placing his shoes over the air vent to try and dry them out, Lars ended by folding the towel and shivering his way to the couch.

A pillow and blankets were already set out by the time he got there, and he snuggled under them gratefully, curling into a ball and pulling the blankets up so high that only his hair poked out of the top of the heap.

Sadie perched on the edge, and rubbed his back through the blanket, calming him with the repetition and touch.

“Could you… sing for me?” Lars hated how small his voice sounded.

Sadie’s sighed, and settled herself on the couch more comfortably. With a deep breath she started to sing, low and quiet in the still basement air. Eventually Lars managed to drift off to sleep with the high clear notes of her voice ringing in his head like a bell.

 

 

A tinny ring thrust Lars from his reverie and he realized he had dialed his home number completely through muscle memory. When it rang again, he licked his lips, panicking suddenly. On the third ring he decided he was going to hang up when the phone clicked.

“Good morning, Barriga residence.” Lars deflated at how absolutely exhausted and defeated his mother sounded.

“Mom?” The quake in his voice was impossible to mask, and Lars felt another few tears slip down his face as he remembered his dreams and was filled with sharp sick grief.

“Lars! Where have you been? You didn’t come home last night and you haven’t answered any of our calls or texts. I know you’re an adult, and you need your space from home sometimes, but please at least tell us where you’re going! I don’t want any more nights spent wondering if you were kidnapped again by a crazed alien –”

“Mom.” Lars had to interrupt her. He couldn’t handle the pain in her voice, so similar to how he’d dreamed it. He felt awful, once again having thought only of himself and thus hurting someone he actually cared about. 

Martha gasped and it was clear she recognized his tone. “Where are you? Are you hurt? I’ll come get you.” In the background he heard her walking and then the shifting of fabric followed by the jingle of car keys. She was only a few steps away from rushing out the door to get Lars at six in the morning. He suspected that even if he said he was on the moon she would find a way to rescue him – and then continue his well-deserved lecture as she took him home.

“Mom, mom, it’s okay, I’m at Sadie’s, she’s been taking care of me!”

Lars heard the slap of his mother’s palm over the phone and her muffled voice shouting ‘He’s at Sadie’s!’ and his father shout something unintelligible back.

Martha sighed when she came back on the line, and Lars could clearly picture the exasperated face she was making: fingers rubbing the bridge of her nose behind her glasses, hand tightly clenched around the phone, and mouth pursed.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to not call you. I left my phone with Pearl’s girlfriend, Sheena, yesterday afternoon and things just got worse and worse from there. I… I… didn’t think, like usual, and was stupid and selfish.

“Lars,” Martha’s voice softened at his stammering and she shushed him gently, “Don’t talk like that. It’s alright to be a little selfish once in a while, and you are not stupid. I would never think that. I love you so much, Lars. I was just angry and disappointed because I was scared for you. Scared I might never see you again. It’s silly of course, you’ve never been safer, never been more capable but…”

“Thanks, mom.” Lars sniffed grossly as he wiped his eyes with one hand, the long cord of the phone coming with him; he hadn’t realized he had tangled it around his fingers as he was speaking. “Thank you for worrying. I’m safe.”

The line went dead on both sides for a long half a minute, both of them just breathing, existing, letting the other know they were okay. Steeling his courage, Lars cradled the phone between his head and shoulder, like he’d watched his mother do many times, and tangled both his hands in the cord that led to the wall, needing something to do with his hands.

“I need some advice,” Lars gulped out.

Martha paused. There were a lot of things she wanted to say to her son, and a lot of things she needed to say to him, but instead she just took a deep breath and said, “Okay.”

“This analogy in going to be really fu-” Lars cut himself off, remembering how his mother felt about swearing. “Freaking weird, but just bear with me okay? Like keep an open mind and stuff?”

“Lars.”

“Okay, okay. So, let’s pretend you had to give me up after I was born and never even got to meet me. At all. But you have the chance now to meet me. But the only person who knows and can help you, isn’t as helpful as you expected. Would you still try to meet me?”

“Lars.” Martha’s tone was tough, but caring. “I would fight White Diamond and the devil himself for you. Of course I would do anything to try and see you. You’re my son."

A weight lifted off of Lars shoulders and for a second he felt lighter than air. Then a realization struck him and it slammed back down heavier than ever. “Even…. Even back then?”

“Back when?”

“Back when I was a worthless jackass to you and anyone else that cared about me!” Lars almost dropped the phone in his vitriol.

“Lars!” Martha chided. “Don’t talk about yourself like that. You were sixteen. And maybe you were a bit… of a jerk.” Martha spoke the words carefully, but Lars appreciated her honesty. When she continued her voice was much kinder and gentler, “But you were never worthless. Never. Even then I would’ve fought every gem or monster or devil to meet you.”

“Fuck, mom.” Lars couldn’t help himself as the emotions overwhelmed him. Was that how Rose felt for Steven? And did that change anything he felt about her? If their situations were reversed what would Lars want Steven to do? He didn’t immediately have the answer to that, and it exhausted him.

“Are you sure you’re alright, Lars? There’s no shame in coming home.” Martha suggested it quietly, but the obvious worry in her tone had Lars smiling. There was someone who missed him. Someone who was on his team.

“I’m don’t think I am alright. In the head.” Lars refrained from mentioning his nose to his mother, it was already healing nicely and would most likely be unnoticeable by the time he saw her again.

“It’s a long, complicated story,” Lars added in quickly, finding his voice was rather light for all the things his dreams had made him feel. The physical pain of the day had faded with his sleep and the mental anguish was washing away too, by the tide of his mother’s familiar tone.

“Will you tell it to me one day?” Martha asked, voice crackling with a bit of hidden amusement. As mother and son they had grown adept at dancing around each other and difficult subjects.  

“Tonight. Over dinner.”

“Adobo?”

“And buko pie!” Lars decided, even if he would only eat a few bites of each.

Martha laughed, and Lars let himself laugh too, finally untangling both his hands from the phone cord. He switched ears, coiling the cord around his body without concern. Until he almost got caught in it and tripped when he saw Sadie climbing the stairs looking for him.

Sadie’s hair was greasy and messy, sticking up at odd angles, and she was wearing baggy pyjama with frogs on them. But the expression on her face when her eyes met Lars had him smiling. The confused curve of her mouth, drenched with sleep, morphed into a tired smile, and any worry in her eyes vanished at locating Lars. Crossing the room quickly, Sadie pulled him into a hug, nuzzled her face into the warmth of his torso, and held their bodies so close Lars hoped against logic that two humans really could fuse.

Lars realized he had been silent for too long, staring lovingly down at Sadie when his mother coughed. “I have to go.”

“Of course, Lars. I love you.” Martha’s voice was tinged with amusement, and Lars felt a low rumble of frustration in his throat. She knew that Sadie had suddenly woken up and that was why Lars was hanging up, all without Sadie making a peep or Lars saying a word and Lars couldn’t figure out how she knew. His mother’s only explanation every time he asked was ‘I was young once too.’ Sometimes his father would chime in with ‘And the seventies were wild, son.’ and wink conspiratorially at his mother, leaving Lars to wonder exactly what his parents had been like at that age.

“I love you too, mom.” And then the line clicked dead and Lars was greeted with the dial tone again. He hung up the phone carefully, pulling the tangled cord away from him with Sadie’s amused help.

The moment Lars was free from the cord, Sadie grew serious again. “So, are we talking about it?”

“I did promise.” Lars leaned down to plant a kiss on her forehead, and laughed when that wasn’t good enough for Sadie as she stretched up on tiptoe to kiss him properly.

They kissed for a while, enjoying each other’s company, swaying to music only they heard, hands making overheated trails on skin where they touched each other. When they broke apart, Lars felt almost normal for the first time since he met Rose Quartz. The pain and fear had faded to the background, still there but not so overwhelmingly present. Sadie helped Lars adjust the blanket around himself until he was wearing it like a toga and then led him by the hand to her room of the freezing basement.

No words were necessary as Lars climbed onto the bed, Sadie joining him with her laptop, lying next to each other on their stomachs. Sadie pulled another blanket over both of them, and draped her arm over Lars’ skinny back to snuggle him close to her side, pulling up Webflix and starting up the cooking show they only ever watched when they needed some background noise for difficult conversations.

Lars made it about five minutes into the show before the inaccuracies of the baking they did drove him to talk to Sadie so he wouldn’t have to keep watching it. Within moments the story of his entire day after leaving the Big Donut was pouring out of him, Lars making animated hand gestures the whole while. Lars told her everything. Sadie listened, interrupting once in a while with a stray comment or aside that needed no reply to keep Lars from becoming obsessive in his ranting.

“Greg really said that to you? I’m making mom hold his mail for sure.”

“I’m glad Ronaldo was there for you. Have you called him? He’s probably worried about you. Here I’ll check my phone.”

“He is. Thirty texts and nine calls. I’m going to tell him you’re okay.”

“I won’t lie, I think you punching Rose is kind of badass.”

Lars took a huge breath when he finished talking. The silence stretched on, Lars waiting patiently for Sadie to process it all, form an opinion and then reply. With the cooking show long over, and nothing more to say, Lars grew restless, flipping onto his back and then his side before settling for sitting cross legged. The familiar position allowed him to reach for the calmness of meditation. Briefly, he closed his eyes.

Eventually the weight on the bed shifted, and Lars opened his eyes to see Sadie sitting in front of him, knees knocking his own. The expression on her face was careful and guarded, though sadness seemed the most prominent. She opened her mouth to speak, but stopped. Sadie chewed a bit of her hair – a nervous habit she’d apparently only started when Lars went missing – and Lars brushed it back out of her face, holding her cheek with one hand, since he promised he’d help her stop. In turn she took his other hand in hers, rubbing the knuckles soothingly to prevent him from picking his cuticles. They broke into shy smiles when their eyes met.

“Lars,” Sadie started. “You’re martyring yourself again. Why are you doing this alone?”

Sadie’s words seared and branded him. He hadn’t even considered that option until Sadie had pointed it out. Hadn’t even been aware of the box he’d put himself in, until someone pulled the lid back and showed him the light. Again.

“I’m scared, Sadie.” It was the only answer he could give her. 

“Of what?”

“That Steven will hate me.” It sounded silly when Lars said it out loud and he cringed, hard.

Sadie was pragmatic in her reply. “And if he does?”

“Huh?”

“So what, Lars? What if he hates you?”    

A thousand possibilities flashed through Lars’ mind at once. He picked the worst one he could latch onto and ran with it. “Everyone else will go back to hating me too.”

“No, they won’t.”

“They’ll draw lines! They’ll have to pick! I can’t ask people to choose between Steven and me! Okay, actually I fucking can, I’d just want them to choose Steven.”

Sadie gave him that look like he was the only person left in the universe and Lars’ breath left him. She took his other hand in her own, and tugged them both to force Lars not to look away or break eye contact. “Honestly, Lars? Some of them might choose sides. Maybe you won’t get to see the gems as much, or you will, but it’ll be incredibly awkward and everyone will just tolerate it and never talk about it, but some of them will choose you, Lars. Ronaldo, the Off-Colors, your parents. Me. And maybe Steven will hate you.”

Sadie’s voice grew softer, fonder when she continued. “But maybe he won’t. Maybe this will make you closer.”

“Maybe.” Lars conceded, sniffling. “I still don’t want to go back out there. After what Rose and I did to each other.”

“I don’t think I want you to go back out there either, Lars. I want you to stay here and skip work again with me, and binge Webflix. But did you really want to do it in the first place?”

“No.”

“Then why did you?” Sadie was using that tone that meant she already knew what the answer was, she was just waiting for him to figure it out for himself.

“Because. _Steven._ ” And that single name was so profoundly filled with meaning and emotion that Lars needed no other explanation as to why he did what he did.

"Yeah. Steven.” When Sadie said his name it was drawn out long and sad. Steven used to make her think exclusively of sunshine and aching sweetness, but lately it was tempered with sadness and loss, the two emotions warring for a place every time she thought of him.

“You didn’t want to do it then. You don’t want to do it now though, either.” Sadie stated matter-of-factly.

Lars picked up on the unspoken question immediately. “Earlier I thought it was what was best for Steven. I’m not so sure now.”

Sadie grimaced. “I don’t know much about Rose. But I remember Steven, and his tape, years ago. If I’m honest…” Sadie hesitated, but Lars squeezed her hand, reminding her that he didn’t think her thoughts were bad. “I agree with you and Ron. It might be the better for Steven if he doesn’t get to talk to his mother.”

Lars sighed. “He’d definitely hate me if he found out I lied to him about it. Lying by omission is what Garnet and Pearl do! Not me!”

Sadie screwed up her face and asked, “If Rose was your mother, what would you want Steven to do?”

Lars answered easily. “I’d want him to tell me only so I could tell her to fuck off myself!”

“What we want for Steven is wrong, Lars. He deserves to know. He deserves that choice.”

“Yeah, he does.” Lars had known the answer already, but that didn’t mean he was happy about it. “I’m still terrified, Sadie.”

“That’s okay. What are you going to do about it?” The challenge in her voice stoked the fire in him. 

Lars had been too hurt and broken on the ground at the barn to keep going, but with sleep and Sadie the hurt had become much smaller, could be pushed past. If nothing else, he still had Sadie and his parents, and maybe knowing that was enough to keep going. Lars had known all along that he couldn't just stop until he found Steven, regardless of the destruction left in his wake.

“Nothing. I’m going to find Rose. Then I’m going to find Steven. Then I’m going to be scared and see what happens.” Pounding his chest with pride, Lars leapt off the bed, threw the blanket over his shoulder like a cape and spun on his heels, to smirk and wink at Sadie. Finding it hysterically funny, Sadie laughed so hard she missed Lars leaving the room.

When he came back he was in his mostly dry clothes, a determined look on his face. Lars grabbed Sadie and kissed her soundly, fingers running through her hair, body thrumming with renewed confidence. Sadie kissed back. It was rough and emotional and with tongue.

“You’re skipping work, right? You need your sleep since I interrupted it.” Lars waggled his eyebrows at her when they pulled away for air, sending her into another breathless laughing fit. It felt good to watch.

“I could come with you.”

Lars looked at her sadly. They both knew she couldn’t. Sadie and Steven were wonderful friends, but the connection Lars and Steven had was beyond mere friendship. “I think I have to do this alone.”

“I’ll help you pick up the pieces then, when it’s finished. Whatever they may be.”

“I love you.”

“None of that yet, you secretly emotional sap. I’m going to walk you to the door. And then you can kiss me again. We have time. ”

“I love you.” Lars said it again, because he knew he didn’t say it enough.

Before the door Sadie kissed Lars again. “You going to go after Rose without a shirt on?”

Lars grimaced. “I’ll figure something out. I have almost five hours left, and I'll probably have to swing by the Temple anyways. They have my cape and shirt from my space pirate days.”

“I love you, Star Boy.” Sadie only ever called him that under the cover of darkness.

“I love you too, Player Two.”

Then, with a deep breath, Lars opened the door to the world outside, ready to stop running away and march back into the thick of battle. He crossed the threshold… and slammed hard into Greg Universe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't have a lot of notes for this one, but Lars is about to get thrust back into the thick of things! His confidence is back, his strength is back, and he is determined to find Steven Universe. 
> 
> I enjoy the break in the timeline this chapter presents, it was very stylistically interesting, since I wanted this chapter to start with Lars waking up, but also needed to detail what happened before he fell asleep. 
> 
> I hope Lars getting back into the game doesn't seem too abrupt. He just needed some encouragement and kindness. And there's some more stuff in the next chapter that deals with Lars getting back on track courtesy of Greg. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, and leave a comment if you like.


	14. Lars Of The Stars!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lars gets some encouragement and remembers who he is.

The stoop felt like a battle ground. On one side, Lars and Sadie stood in front of the still open door, yawning darkness behind them. Slightly below them, on the ground, stood Greg Universe, holding a bag in one hand and rubbing his ear with the other, unable or unwilling to look Lars in the eyes. The tension that had pervaded the car wash sprang back quickly, but this time Lars knew that he wouldn’t be leaving the victim. When he glanced at Sadie she nodded determinedly at him. He wouldn’t have to face Greg Universe alone.

“Hey Lars,” Greg started awkwardly, voice stilted and wavering. “How was your morning?”

“Shitty.” Lars enunciated every syllable, drawing out the word like an arrow to shoot towards Greg.

“Yeah. That’s… fair. Mine kind of sucked too, but I don’t really think I can compare.” Greg finally looked Lars in the eyes, and flinched at the anger he saw there. “I was woken up to the business end of Pearl’s spear and then she dragged me by my ear to apologize to you.”

Lars tried to stifle a laugh when he took a better look at the ear Greg was rubbing, which was redder than normal. Lars had only once had his ear twisted by an angry teacher, but he still felt it throb in sympathy from the pain.

“Where is Pearl then?” Lars asked suspiciously, crossing his arms.

“Why don’t we sit down and discuss this? I could make some tea?” The suggestion was too cheerful from Greg, forced and awkward and he took a step forward towards the open door.

Sadie turned around and slammed it shut, blocking Greg with her arms. “You’re not welcome in my house Mr. Universe.”

“Mr. Universe, huh? Guess I have to earn back ‘Greg’.” He tried to laugh at his joke, but Sadie shot him a murderous glare, and he wilted.

“You have to earn that and more after what you said to Lars, Mr. Universe.” Sadie seethed, looking like one more word from Greg would set her off.

Lars grabbed Sadie’s shoulder and squeezed it lightly, causing her to tense, then relax slowly, and ease back from Greg to stand next to him again. With a deep breath Lars leaned against the door jamb, feeling in control for the first time in the night. The few extra inches the stoop afforded him so that Greg had to look ever so slightly up made him few incredibly powerful, reminded him that Greg was supposed to be an equal, and not his better.

“If you’re only here because of Pearl, then where is she?” Lars tapped his foot, and narrowed his eyes at Greg, trying to show him without words that he was skating on thin ice.

“Here.” Greg held up the bag to Lars, who begrudgingly held out his hands and caught it. “It might be easier this way.”

When Lars opened the bag he was greeted with purple fabric that could only be from his pirate shirt. On top of it was a crisply folded letter, with his name spelled out in thin, looping curls, and a fancy tail on the ‘s’. With trembling hands, he opened it. Pearl’s printing was ever so slightly sloppy, with a few of the letters looking as if they were simply begging to be curled into Pearl’s crisp cursive. Lars appreciated the effort, remembering their simultaneous embarrassment at him being unable to decipher her cursive writing when it was more than a few words.

 

_Dear Lars,_

_~~I apologize  didn’t mean I wonder if~~ I am sorry. I shouldn’t have left you alone. I had no idea what would happen, but that doesn’t excuse my actions. I was Rose’s closest friend and confidant and I should’ve been there to help you, to guide you in revealing her existence and actions to Steven. Had I been there, I doubt Greg would’ve hurt you as deeply as he did.  _

_~~I found out… rumors travel quickly in the Crystal Gems… Amythest said~~ I hope I did not overstep too much in sending Greg to you, but we’ve figured out where Steven is and he owes you an apology. As do I. I should have come with him. To help you. But I am afraid of what you might think. Of what Rose might say. I suppose we’re both just cowards. _

_I couldn’t get the gem blood off your shirt. Not with anything human made at least. Instead I packed your pirate shirt and cape, both washed and ironed (by me), since it’s chilly in the mornings and you still can’t regulate the temperature of your frail mostly human body. Please wear them. And, well, I remember you said they make you feel cool, and I understand how important it can be to be cool._

_Sincerely,_

_Your friend Pearl._

Lars chuckled at the letter, feeling offended on Pearl’s behalf that she thought she was the coward in the current situation. The only person Lars thought was a coward was Greg…. and sometimes himself. He gripped it tightly in one hand, as he pulled his shirt on with the other, discreetly inhaling the smell that clung to it. It was the warm wood of the Temple, clean sea air and a detergent brand that Pearl still refused to reveal to Lars. It smelled like home.

The fabric was familiar, if a bit stiff and Lars warmed underneath it, pleased at the clean sensation of putting it on. Off-handedly, he passed the letter to Sadie, nodding that she could read it, as he used both hands to clip his cape around his neck.

“You’re going to wear that? Sadie’s voice was genuinely curious, and endlessly gentle as her eyes skimmed the letter, but Lars still had a brief moment of pure panic where shame coursed clear and bright to his cheeks and he pulled up his walls to defend against teasing.

“Yeah, I am.” Lars smiled as he made his choice, mounted his own walls and defenses. He liked his shirt and cape, liked how they looked on him, how they made him feel. Steven liked them. The Off-Colors adored them. And Sadie would never admit it to anyone else, but she loved being swept off her feet by confident space pirate Lars. So, Lars decided that it didn’t matter if anyone else disliked it.

“Hey did you see the last part of the letter? It was folded over and – ” Sadie was cut off by Lars scrabbling to peer over her shoulder at the bit of letter he had missed. The handwriting was distinctly Sheena’s, a fact Lars knew because Pearl had lamented about her messy writing more than once while they were cooking together.

 

_PS – Hey, Laramie. I’m not one hundred percent clear on just what the hell is going on, but you better not be too hard on my little blue bird, she spent all night fretting. Anyways, I updated your phone and cleaned some of its gunk, even though, you know, you lied to me about the porn. I also beat your high score on Gumdrop Smash. I tried not to read any of your texts, but you should see them. You should definitely see them._

_Peace,_

_Mystery Girl._

It was then that Lars became aware of the soft ringing and vibrating from the bag he was still holding in his hand. At the bottom, the last thing still in the bag, was his phone, ringing like crazy. Lars reached out to grab it, fumbled, watched as his phone arced through the air and then managed to catch it perfectly in both hands, bag fluttering forgotten to the ground. Lars wished that more people beside Sadie and Greg had been around to watch him be so effortlessly cool. The phone reminded him of its presence again, and he pressed it to his ear and answered it without stopping to look at who it was.

“Lars?” Martha’s voice rang clear through the phone, and Lars laughed.

“Yeah?”

“How do I make her leave?” Martha’s voice was a low whisper into the phone.

“Who?”

“Pearl! She showed up shortly after you called, dragging Greg by the ear! Said he has to apologize for something, but wouldn’t tell me what.” Lars glanced at Greg, who was twiddling his thumbs and trying to look anywhere but at him. He knew that tone in his mother’s voice, and was glad that Greg wasn’t at his house anymore. He had a feeling things would be very awkward at the weekly card games that Martha had been invited to since Lars started becoming more involved with everyone else.

“I hope you don’t mind that I told them you were at Sadie’s. They were very insistent that you needed to find Steven and that Greg could get you there.”

“It’s fine mom.” Lars attempted to get a word in edgewise, but knew it was ultimately futile when his mother was on a roll.

“I made that man tea and breakfast you know! You’ll tell me what he said and if he apologizes, won’t you? He shouldn’t get away with it just because he’s Steven’s father!”

“I think Sadie’s got that covered.” Lars saw Sadie scowling at Greg again and knew that she would be angry at him for much longer than Lars ever would be, even long after he had apologized and any animosity between them had cooled.

Martha softened at that. “Alright Lars, I’m sure she does. But honestly what should I do about Pearl? She knows where everything is in the kitchen and she’s been cleaning it like she’s fighting a war again.”

Lars laughed. He had seen Pearl clean before with such single minded ferocity that it was almost scary. It was kind of her, he knew, but it also made him feel awkward. Lars didn’t want her feeling obligated to clean anything for anyone, regardless of how often she said she liked it and that she was doing it because she wanted to. He wondered, for a second, if this time it was out of the guilt she had poured into the brief letter or if it was simply out of annoyance for their kitchen not fitting the neat patterns and mold her brain told her the world should make up. “If you can figure out how to stop her, be my guest, but she actually seems to like cleaning.”

An idea struck Lars and he interrupted his mother’s reply to ask, “Do you still have the cookie dough I froze?”

“Of course, dear, I had to keep your father from eating it for months.”

“It’s Steven’s favorite. Can you give half to Pearl? Tell her… tell her I’m not mad about anything. It’s not her fault.”

“Alright, Lars.” Martha’s voice was hesitant and heavy with confusion, but she would do it if her son asked.

“Thanks mom. I have to go though, okay?” Lars felt himself growing impatient. The sun was rising warm and bright above the horizon line of houses and he felt the urgency of earlier growing tight within him again. They didn’t have much time left, and even Greg knowing where Steven was didn’t change that.

“Of course honey, go save the world again or something. I know you can do it. I love you.” Lars could hear his mother’s smile.

“Love you too, mom, goodbye.” Lars hung up quickly before his mother could pull him back into the conversation – something she was incredibly good at – and let out a long breath.

Lars was distracted from demanding an apology from Greg by all the notifications he saw when he thumbed out of his call app. Numerous texts, missed calls, collected voicemails, emails, and group messages awaited him, and he was unable to quell his curiosity. With shaking hands Lars clicked on his group messaging app, filled with equal parts trepidation and wonder. The first thing that popped up was a long disused chat that had consisted of just himself and the cool kids, with silly nicknames they’d stolen his phone to put in.

 

_TheBlindBadass:  Bingo Bongo, Donut Boy! Our mutual friend revealed your mysterious mission to locate the Star Child. His cynical mood was a mirror to my own, and he prognosticated that yours would be too when you completed your quest. His ideas are lacking in the cool department._

_RaveMaster: ;|_

_CoolPizzaTwin: Ugh, sorry about him, Lars. He’s thinks he’s all spiritual and shit, and can ‘see’ more clearly since he’s gone blind. He’s insufferable now._

_RaveMaster: …….. :[_

_CoolPizzaTwin: What the two idiots mean is: Ronaldo told us you’re looking for Steven and it’s probably going to suck. We know you can find him and we’re proud of you. We’ve got your back. Don’t forget how cool you are._

The rest of the messages were by Sour Cream, starting with a long block of thumbs up and smiling emoticons, then a few motivational pictures and finally ending with a stream of memes and gifs. Lars eventually exited the app without loading them all in fear of it freezing. 

A smile broke across his face and he took a chance at opening his emails. All five of them were from Peridot. Opening the most recent revealed a wall of text that was preceded by ‘……(5/5)’. Lars was suitably impressed at Peridot’s ability to hit the character limit by using too many adjectives and being ‘verbose’ (as she had proudly proclaimed when she showed him the thesaurus Amethyst had jokingly gifted her for arguing with people on the internet) in the email. Quickly switching to the first email, Lars skimmed down the page.

 

_Hello Lars. I noted your hasty departure from the laboratory and have been concerned. If you are worried that I will think less of you for your weak stomach, fear not, for I am a gem of superior intellect and morality, and of course I am aware that most humans cannot help but get sick at times and thus lose control of certain bodily functions. It is perfectly natural as I have come to find out by…_

Lars skimmed the long paragraphs until he found the thread of a new thought, which began in the second email.

 

_Bismuth explained that she is also not upset at you. All of this is apparently a product of ‘Rose Quartz’ who as you know I have only heard about anecdotally. Although I must admit my exposure to her mostly consists of angry stories from Bismuth and Lapis. Steven and the others are often fairly reticent if I try to bring it up and I know I cannot trust inaccurate Homeworld propaganda. Thus I must conclude that my opinions on Rose Quartz are rather biased. Regardless I do have an opinion on Rose Quartz and it is as follows:_

As far as Lars could tell the rest of that email consisted of a standard five paragraph essay on Peridot’s exact opinion of Rose Quartz, which Lars decided to save later when he needed something to read to try and put him to sleep. Opening the third email Lars quickly skimmed for the next best place to pick up the thread.

 

_I have just realized my error in not telling you how I came to know that you are suffering from Rose Quartz and on a noble quest to unite her with Steven. My hacking was apparently incorrect, as Pearl did show up to angrily yell at us for playing the music unconscionably loud. When Bismuth stupidly asked her why she was being so intense she happened to reveal that she talked to Amethyst who revealed your day as far as she was aware, although Pearl assured us that it could be a skewed or embellished view, though I am inclined to believe Amethyst. I hope you are not disappointed in me for participating in the discussion of your private life and problems, especially since you told me that that isn’t kind and I thought of several similar examples such as:_

Lars jumped paragraphs again.

 

_Despite all of this I must insist that we continue to be friends, since our relationship is objectively enjoyable and mutually beneficial. I enjoy your company, Lars, and I hope that you don’t get hurt more. I also do not wish to see Steven harmed in any way. But if either of you are, I would like to continue being both of your friends. I have compiled a short list as to how this can be achieved and the merits of a continued friendly relationship between us._

Lars felt something warm and sweet bubble up and pop in his chest. It diffused through him, feeling more stable and permanent than the deeply sweet fizz the Off-Colors produced in him. His smile continued to grow as he looked at the list of kind things Peridot had said to him. A weight at his arm made him realize he’d grown distracted and he suddenly saw himself in the reflection of his phone, goofy smile, tears pooling at the corner of his eyes, one hand gripping his chin, the other on his phone, holding it at chest level. Sadie had both hands in the crook of his elbow that was holding the phone and was looking up at him hopefully, smiling tentatively. The rest of the world had fallen away, Lars had only the vaguest notion of someone else hovering near him, which was obviously Greg.

Lars swallowed thickly and checked the rest of his phone, the missed calls, texts and messages were from Ronaldo, the last one being, ‘I’m glad you’re alright’. Saving them for later Lars opened the last of the messages he hadn’t seen – the pictures. An album of dozens greeted him, all from Pearl. Which was strange, until Lars saw the first picture, a blurry half snapshot of Pearl yelling at Amethyst for obviously stealing her phone to take and send pictures with – again.

Sadie tugged his elbow, curious, and Lars twirled her into his embrace, wrapping his arms around her and resting his chin on her head, phone eye level for both of them as he flicked through and shared the pictures with her. He probably scrolled through them too fast for her to really take them in he realized later, but in the moment he was too overwhelmed by them to stop.

Nearly half of them were Amethyst or the Famethyst or Pearl blurrily trying to stop Amethyst from taking more pictures or some variation in-between. Amethyst smiling at the camera, staring straight towards him, showing him that her smile didn’t quite reach her eyes, but that was okay. The Famethyst photobombing tourists, throwing donuts at each other, drenching each other with pitchers of juice, or wrestling, Amethyst in each one, growing more and more content as the pictures wore on, in visual confirmation that Lars had not broken her. There was even one with the Famethyst carrying a screaming Pearl off, Amethyst hysterically laughing in the background, followed immediately by Sheena taking a selfie on the phone with that scene behind her. Bismuth and Peridot kneeling down, confused at the sudden inclusion of pictures, and the swarm of the Famethyst pushing them into position. The last picture was in a batch of its own, stamped sent several hours later than the rest.

It was intimately familiar to Lars, as he had a framed copy that he hauled between his school dorm and home every year. He hadn’t realized Pearl had kept the picture saved to her phone.  

It was blurred at the edges, a product of it’s hasty taking, but Lars loved it fiercely anyways. IN it he stood proud in the middle of the Off-Colors, drenched in sweat, covered in grime, but standing straight and proud, Padparasdscha hanging off his one arm, and the Rutile’s wrapped around his other pointing off into the unknownable distance, Fluorite serene and gentle around them, and Rhodonite pleasantly surprised behind his head.

It was their first moments on Earth, after screaming through the stratosphere with Pearl trying to walk Lars through his first spaceship landing. It had been mostly successful. When Lars looked at the picture he could almost see what everyone else told him they saw. A leader. Someone brave and strong, and kind. Someone who looked out for his crew. Someone handsome, suave and charming, even with greasy hair flopping into his eyes and all his clothes covered in stains and sweat.

Only a few days later, when Lars had wondered out loud how people could still look to him, how he was supposed to survive the rest of the war he’d brought them, how he was supposed to reconcile the person he’d become with the person he’d been Garnet had removed her visor and answered.

“Lars. Trust in the stars. You are of the stars. The people of Beach City believe in the Stars. Believe in those that believe in you.”

And Lars had laughed, because wasn’t that just some anime bullshit right there. But then Steven had come by with the framed photo with the words ‘Lars of the Stars’ written under it, and everywhere he went people looked at him differently, called him that seriously and unironically. And soon enough Lars started to believe it, too.

“I see now. The people and gems of Beach City no longer rally around me. It is you and Steven they believe in.” Rose’s voice was a whisper and her hand was soft against his shoulder.

“Damn right it is.” Lars snapped his head up to make eye contact with Rose, challenging her to look away. She had surprised him, and he wondered if Sadie had felt the tiniest jump and tightening of his grip around her. He certainly wasn’t going to let Rose know that though. Not when he had just gotten control back.

“She’s here, isn’t she?” Greg raised his eyebrow at Lars’ outburst, still twiddling his thumbs in the same spot he’d always been. Rose had been the figure hovering at his side, and Lars wondered where she had been.

Releasing Sadie from his grip, and shoving his phone into his jeans, Lars puffed out his chest and sniffed disdainfully. “Don’t know how or why. But, yeah, she is. Not that I’m happy about it. Even if it makes things easier.”

“I went to the Temple after… our discussion.” Lars snorted at the way Rose said that. Both their eyes were hard and unyielding. The anger from earlier simmered in Lars’ gut, but he knew that Rose deserved the chance to speak. And the way she clutched her stomach had images of their earlier violence flashing through Lar’s head again. “I hoped to see Steven. But it was dark in the strange little house there. I built the Temple door to only let in certain gems. It was to keep all of us safe. Apparently, as a ghost, I am a danger. With nowhere left to go, I sought out Greg, and he was right where I expected. The car wash. I stayed with him.”

“And then when Pearl came, you used it as an opportunity to find me.” Lars finished the sentence for her, narrowing his eyes, daring her to deny it.

“Pearl said they knew where Steven was. For sure this time.”

“And you didn’t think to come out right away?”

“I assumed Greg would apologize and that the situation would be more diplomatic if I weren’t there at first. I had thought I waited long enough before leaving the car.”  

“What makes you think I’ll even help you, Rose? After what you did?” Lars swallowed. He knew his answer already, but he hoped his bluff would work. Realistically he knew it was his decision, but very little of the time he had been with Rose had been spent feeling in control. Usually he liked following others, but he wanted to be the one calling the shots, now. Having choices sucked, but he had to be a leader. Space Captain Lars had to make choices. All he could do was hope they were good ones.

Rose opened her mouth as if to speak but stopped at Lars’ intense gaze. What could she say to him? After the things they had done to each other, the pure pain they had so mercilessly inflicted, Rose wanted to run away. But she couldn’t. Lars was an almost human. He couldn’t be bubbled and hidden away because he was stubbornly opposed to her, no matter the consequences to everyone else. And Rose knew she didn’t have that power anymore. In the end she broke the stare, eyes downcast to the ground.

Lars’ breath hitched. It was a victory, but it felt hollow. Closing his eyes, he reached for the warm feelings still pooled in his chest, and stoked the fire in him. Then he got serious. “Greg. Get in the Dondai, and gimme the keys. I’m driving.”

Lars held out his hand expectantly, as he made his slow, deliberate way to Greg. Greg’s responding expression was defensive and confused, and he hunched his shoulders, clenched his fists and glared a little at Lars, curling in on himself. It wasn’t impossible to understand why. Greg loved that car. Lars had only dreamed of driving a car like that.

“We don’t have time for this, Greg! In a little less than four hours Steven’s last chance to talk to his mother will be gone. Now get with the program and give me your keys.” It felt good to break out his Captain’s Voice again, and Greg complied immediately, thrusting the keys sullenly into Lars’ hands and then turning to sulk to the car.

“We’re going to find Steven! You can grovel on the way. Rose, let’s go!” Lars whipped his gaze to her and snapped his fingers to point in the direction of the Dondai haphazardly parked in the street in front of the Miller’s house.

Rose quickly followed Greg, walking right through the car to settle in the back seat, while Greg pouted in the passenger’s. With a flourish, Lars turned to Sadie, gave an exaggerated salute and wink and then took his rightful place in the driver’s seat. Once all the windows were down and the radio turned up so high that the car vibrated, Lars set to quickly adjusting the mirrors. He buckled up when he saw the look Sadie was shooting him.

With a yelp of joy, Lars revved the car until the engine was screaming, Sadie cringing as she watched. Then he was screeching off in the cool morning light, cape billowing, eyes shining and every bit the Lars of the Stars she’d always known he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again sorry for the delay with this chapter! I got home from a vacation and had a huge list of things to do to settle in and get back to routine. That and the jet lag meant I didn't really do any writing for a week, but that's all done, so enough about stuff that effects me. How about stuff that's effecting all of us? Just a reminder that the hiatus is still on folks, which is crazy! I never expected it to get this far into the fic without even a date for the new episodes! 
> 
> Anyways, I had a lot of fun writing the last half of the chapter, with confident Lars! I love the 'everyone gets together to support each other' trope and just wanted there to be nice things for Lars for once in this fic. In the next chapter is our regularly scheduled angst, an apology from Greg, talking to Rose, etc. We're getting close to the home stretch now! If you're wondering Buck uses special software to text. And yes, I totally made a shameless Gurren Lagann reference. 
> 
> As always, thank you all for reading, leave a comment if you're so inclined! Thank you!


	15. The Gentle Man's Anger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Greg and Lars finally talk to each other.

“So, where are we going?” Lars asked awkwardly, slowing down to the legal limit once his thirst for speed had been quenched. A good leader didn’t recklessly endanger other people, regardless of how angry he was at them.

“Just. Just keep driving.” Greg said flippantly, still pouting in the passenger’s seat.

Lars did as he was told, eventually turning the radio down to a soft buzz, hoping that would prompt Greg into speaking. Lars shot him a questioning look.

“Steven and Connie are trying to fully cure another corrupt gem, since the twins were a success. They’ve taken it to a safe, abandoned island so it can’t hurt itself or anyone else. They went there with Lion and Garnet so the others couldn’t warp in and interfere.” Greg sighed, and shuffled in his seat, fiddling with the radio stations.

Lars smirked. Pearl would definitely freak out, Peridot would be a danger to everyone when she got too close trying to get data, and Amethyst was just not sensitive enough for such an emotionally and physically damaged gem to be around. So of course Garnet was there to keep out anyone who might try and interfere. “So, how the heck are we getting there then? Seems like Steven and Connie thought of everything when it came to keeping us away.”

“I know a guy with a boat,” was all Greg supplied.

Lars merely nodded, and trained his eyes back on the road again. The silence stretched on as far as the endless highway out of town, and Lars wondered how long he could handle so awkward a car ride.

It was Rose that broke the silence. “You should talk to each other.”

“Stay out of this, Rose! You’ve helped enough today. Have you even learned anything since I punched you in the stomach or do I need to do it again?” Lars growled at her, trying to pay attention to the road.

Lars immediately felt guilty after the words left his mouth, and the guilt only increased when he saw the look on Greg’s face. “Shit.”

Lars felt his hands begin to shake, and his vision wobble. It wasn’t supposed to happen like that. He was supposed to be strong. Supposed to be commanding and a leader. He wasn’t supposed to let Rose get to him, but equally he was supposed to be fair and understanding. All the things everyone wanted him to be. He’d been so sure he could do it.

“Lars.” Greg’s voice was gentle and understanding, and he placed his hand carefully over Lars’ sudden death grip on the steering wheel. “Stop the car. Please.”

Lars did as he was told, thankful for the sudden directions he could mindlessly follow. Pulling to the empty shoulder of the road, Lars parked the car and then kept his hands on the wheel, because he knew if he took them off he’d just start shaking.

The warmth and bravado from all the earlier encouragement had dulled, but not died. He wouldn’t cry, refused to let himself be bullied. Immediately Lars felt himself tense and go on the defensive when Greg got out of the car. He leaned back, crossing his arms like a petulant child, staring with pursed lips at the steering wheel.

Greg disappeared around the car, but Lars figured out what he was doing when he felt the trunk pop open. Shortly after, Greg appeared around the driver’s side of the car, his guitar and Steven’s ukulele in his arms. When Lars didn’t move Greg carefully shuffled everything into his arms and opened the door himself.

“Look I get it, you hate me, okay!” Lars shouted suddenly, as fresh air poured into the car. “Let’s just go and find Steven and then I’ll never talk to you again.

“I don’t hate you, Lars.” Greg sounded genuinely remorseful and embarrassed.

“Could’ve fooled me,” Lars muttered derisively, but he slid out of the car anyways, content to continue following orders for the moment.

Greg led the way to the front of the car where he leaned casually against it, motioning for Lars to do the same. Rose followed Lars as he did. He slid onto the hood, crossing his legs and making himself fully comfortable, eyes still downcast. Next to him, Rose stood with only her upper torso poking out of the car, with the rest of her sinking into intangibility in the hood.

Suddenly Greg was thrusting the ukulele into Lars’ hands, maneuvering his fingers into the proper positions with a smile on his face. Lars balked and tried to scrabble away, but Greg’s grip and expression held him there.

“Has Steven ever taught you how to play?” Greg asked earnestly.

Lars snorted in response. “He’s never succeeded. I sound like a tone deaf cat getting fucked. I have no rhythm whatsoever.”

Lars was surprised to hear the deep belly laugh Greg gave off for that quip. “That’s okay. Here.” Greg gently changed his finger positions again. “Keep your fingers held there. Now try strumming a chord.”

Lars let his finger breeze across all the strings letting out a soft low chord. “That’s good.” Greg gave him a thumbs up. “Just keep strumming that, or pluck a string here and there. I’ll make something around it. You can stop whenever you want.”

Greg tuned his guitar quickly, then picked out an easy rhythm, humming in pleasure at the perfect sound the strings made. When Lars looked at him with a quirked brow he added, “Talking’s always easier when there’s music involved.”

“Okay.” Lars knew better than to doubt the power of music, considering Steven seemed able to solve most of his problems by singing them away.

“I’m sorry for what I said to you. I was… surprised and I reacted poorly.” Greg held Lars’ gaze, trying to show his immense sincerity and remorsefulness. “I didn’t mean what I said.”

Lars plucked a few angry strings before spitting out. “Yes, you did. At least a little.”

To his credit, Greg reacted with confusion and sorrow rather than anger at the accusation. “I touched a nerve didn’t I?”

“You didn’t just touch it, you goddamn stomped on it, Greg.” Lars’ fingers got stuck on the strings as he strummed, making the ukulele screech in protest. He cringed. “You,” the words stuck in his mouth, but he pushed past them, “basically called me broken.”

“And if you didn’t mean it, even just a little bit, you never would’ve said it, angry or not.” Lars spoke low and quick, and Greg played something mournful to match. Rose watched with tired eyes.

“Did Steven ever tell you about the time the two of us got into a screaming match? It was so loud tourists on the other side of the beach heard it. We both left crying.”

“He never mentioned that, no.”

“Do you want to know what he said to me as I stomped off?”

“Yes.” The single word sounded like a prayer as it fell from Greg’s lips. Of course he wanted to know. He always wanted to know new things about his son.  

Curling his body around the ukulele brought Lars some measure of comfort, making himself feel smaller and closer to its owner. “He said he still loved me. Still knew I was a good person, even though he was so angry with me. Even in the heat of the moment, any moment, no matter how surprised or scared or angry at me he’s ever been, Steven’s never called me anything so cruel as what you said to me!”

“Maybe Steven’s a better man than both of us.” A long silence followed Greg’s statement. The pace of his fingers sped up, making Lars’ breath quicken. The tune was no less remorseful though. Lars tried to channel his own feelings into the music.

When watching and trying to copy Greg turned out to be useless, Lars huffed and went back to plucking strings. “I know what you think of me Greg. I’m not like Buck or Sour Cream or you! I’m weird, cynical, hateful, sexual and reckless. I know you’ll never think I’m good enough for your son. But I am not broken. Not anymore. Not for a long time.”

Jumping off the car triumphantly, Lars puffed out his chest, slapping it with his open palm, ukulele clutched carefully in his other hand. He was proud of himself. And wearing his captain’s outfit he remembered why. There was no running from his fear and pain. He had to face it straight on. “I’m proud of myself, Greg. And I know Steven’s proud of me. I don’t require your approval.”

To both Lars and Rose’s surprise, Greg laughed. “Sometimes I forget that you’re not that much older than Steven himself. I’ve always thought of the gems as these old, unknowable beings who I’ll never reach. But you’re not a gem are you?”

“No,” Lars replied with a mixture of pride and embarrassment.  “I am not a gem.”

“And not unknowable,” Greg added suddenly. “Lars, I am genuinely sorry. After I calmed down when you left the car wash I felt horrible. But you’re right. I did mean what I said when I said it.”

The air grew warm and awkward again. Curling inwards again, Lars shuffled back to the hood of the car, this time leaning on it to stare indifferently at the bright morning sky above him. “Amethyst said you did it because you never had the chance to be bitter about Rose’s death the way the gems did.”

“Are you bitter, Greg?” The tone Lars chose was pointed and digging. He didn’t move a muscle but he could feel Rose shift and shuffle silently beside him. A thrum built in his ears, the moment hurtling screaming towards a cliff and it was only Greg who could decide if they would run off of it, or swerve at the last second.

“I think I might be.” Greg admitted it easily.

It surprised Lars that falling off a cliff could be so quiet and calm. Next to him Rose looked like she might throw up. Her eyes were hurt and tired the way Sadie’s had been when she first saw him again on Earth. Tentatively Lars placed his hand flat on the hood of the car, only a few scant inches from Rose’s hand. It was a breathless moment before she placed hers next to his so that their pinkies barely brushed. Whatever his feelings towards Rose, Lars knew how hard it could be to see the one person they loved more than anything in the world looking the way Greg did. And he was still the only one that could offer her his touch as comfort.

“Sometimes it feels like everything comes back to Rose. Like every good or bad thing in my life is somehow related to her. My life is split into before Rose and after Rose.”

Lars could empathize with that. He had a similar divide in his life, before death and after death. Those two periods were so distinct and different that he oftentimes wondered how to reconcile them.

“I did a lot of thinking after you left, Lars.” Greg continued to speak in that easy low tone, smooth and song like. The kind of deep voice that pulled listeners in. “I felt terrible about how I treated you. My first reaction upon hearing that Rose was back wasn’t elation. I didn’t rush to embrace you and thank you for bringing her back to me, if even for a little while. I doubted your honesty and called you broken. And when I did it, I did think that. When you left I even tried to keep telling myself that I was right. But I was wrong.”

“You’re not a monster, Greg!” The words left Rose’s mouth in a hurry, and with no hesitation Lars parroted them back to Greg. There was a compulsion pulling him towards the older man. Lars wanted to like and be liked by him. He was, after all, Steven’s father. And he was doing this all for Steven. Everyone else had just happened to get caught in the riptide.

“Neither of us are.” The reassurance from Greg buoyed Lars’ spirits and he felt a little lighter. He sat on the hood again, pulling the ukulele into his lap. His fingers ached already, but maybe Greg could finally be the one to crack his complete lack of musical ability.

That wasn’t to be the case however because Greg turned to stare at the place next to Lars on the hood, his eyes level with Rose’s chin. Lars sucked a breath through his teeth and that was enough to confirm to Greg that he was looking at the right place.

“I didn’t even get to bury you, Rose.” A few tears escaped Greg’s eyes, voice strangled around the thick lump in his throat.

Lars had the distinct feeling of intrusion as he watched both of them, and knowing his necessary role to play only made him feel more awkward than ever.

A book’s worth of emotions made themselves known in Rose’s expressions, in the small gasp she made, in the clenching of her fists and the squirming of her body. When she forced her eyes almost painfully open she looked at Lars first, equal parts thankful and guilty for the privilege of not being seen by Greg. A part of her still felt spurned and indignant. As a gem, change was slow to come. Before, she’d always had time, always had near guarantee that she would have the next day to worry about something, that after the war, death had been banished forever. Even Steven had not worried her. But suddenly, struck with the realization of their fleeting time, Rose knew she had to fight the conditioning of millennia.

“Is this what humans feel?” She wondered aloud to herself. There was a breathless, clammy, knock-kneed dread growing in her belly, a hesitance that warred with excitement and need. She’d been pushing Lars and herself forward, had only not wanted to hear what her friends were saying because it wasn’t positive, but suddenly was struck with her own fleeting hours left. How did humans live with not knowing when their deaths would come when she could barely handle having a precise countdown to her own?

Rose wanted to feel angry, but she fought it, trying to see what Greg saw, trying to do the thing he’d wanted her to their whole relationship. The ritual of burying the dead had been a puzzling human trait at first, but Rose had grown to understand and even bitterly love the way humans celebrated death. The rituals had changed over millennia, but the meaning was no less the same. In war time Rose and Pearl had taken comfort in burying the shards of friend and foe alike, but she knew that Steven would inherit her gem, and her light based body would disappear. And Greg would have to see that reminder every day and learn to love its new form. It was almost like corruption, that space between the living and dead, where it was stuck, and all that could be done was learning to accept that.

A hollow feeling filled Rose. Greg was biting back tears still, Lars awkwardly panning his eyes between the two of them, fiddling with his cape with a free hand. Stumbling her way out of the car hood that she was standing through, Rose cried openly, throwing her arms around Greg in what she knew was a useless gesture. It took effort to hold her arms perfectly around him so that it was like she was hugging him, and she felt the prickle and tingle of his skin meeting her ghostly form flare through her body.

“She’s… Rose is… She’s there.” Lars stammered at Greg, watching the scene unfold before him.

Greg understood implicitly. “Thank you for bringing her back to me, Lars.”

And Lars turned away, politely averting his eyes as he listened to Greg break down. Casting the ukulele to a safe place on the hood of the Dondai, Lars pressed his fists to his eyes, rubbing at the new stress that had formed there. Then Rose started speaking. Backing up, but still facing away, Lars drew close up so that he could relay Rose’s words back to Greg, through clenched teeth.

“I love you so much, Greg. And I’m sorry, for my death, I’m sorry for leaving you a son you don’t understand to raise alone, for what happened with Pearl. I’ve learned that we’re all to blame for that. You should’ve sat us down, Pearl should’ve said something, but I loved both of you best. I should’ve known. I should’ve tried harder to understand. Everything feels twisted since I’ve left and I can’t figure out if it was good or bad with everything that’s happened and…” Rose’s speech was cut off by her sobbing and hugging Greg tighter, heedless of the stinging and tingling of their bodies pressed together. Lars could hear Greg crying. He let himself cry too, wiping angrily at the tears before they could travel down his face.

“Life just is, Rose.” Greg was blubbering, laugh crying through his tears as he held empty air, not sure where Rose’s body was but taking comfort from it anyways. A snort that Lars couldn’t stop escaped him and he laughed and sniffled too, at the old rocker wisdom Greg was speaking. “That’s why it’s wonderful. Our choices are not always good, but they’re still ours. Isn’t that what you wanted?”

“I’m not so sure anymore,” Rose admitted, but Lars didn’t tell Greg that.

Eventually, when there were no more words needed, Lars went back and sat in the Dondai, resting his head against the cool steering wheel. He needed to be small and safe and ensconced, away from the bright sun and blazing emotions of Greg and Rose. The kind that couldn’t be sung away.

Rose was the first to get back into the Dondai. Tentatively she placed her hand on Lars’ back and he breathed deeply into her touch, letting the soft circles of her palm sooth him, the way his own mother would’ve. The car shook when Greg yanked the trunk open and Lars was vaguely aware of Greg putting away his guitar and the ukulele. When he heard the door slam and Greg get back into the car, he finally leaned back, smiling at the older man tiredly.

“Being sad about Rose isn’t the only reason that things at the car wash went so pear shaped was it?” Idly Lars traced his fingers over the steering wheel as a welcome distraction.

Greg groaned and then started his story with a sigh. “Sometimes I look at you and I’m jealous of what you have. Of how easily you became friends with the gems, of how much better you seem to know Steven compared to me, of Rose coming to you! When I saw you there, Pearl just letting you touch her without a single disgusted look, I felt angry. And in the past you’ve hurt Steven, and I didn’t want that to happen again. I felt like I had to protect him and Pearl. Even though, as she’s told me, more than once, she would not have any trouble ‘carving my heart from my frail human chest cavity’. I thought I left behind that jealousy and alpha male bullshit when I dropped out of college, but I guess not.”

“She actually said that to you?”

“I’ve convinced myself that she was joking.” By his tone, Lars suspected that Greg didn’t believe himself either.

“You’re actually jealous of me, Greg?” That thought felt funny in Lars' brain. On one hand he felt proud that someone could be jealous of him, but then he felt bad that he was taking pleasure in that and of course there was a whole litany of feelings associated with it being Steven's dad that was jealous of him. Lars quickly shelved those thoughts along with all the rest he was ignoring for later.

“Lars, you have to understand, that all of us were raising Steven blind. And while I don’t blame them, the gems weren’t much help when Steven was little. And then I sent him to live with them permanently when his powers started coming in. I’m scared sometimes about how much I might be missing in his life.”

“You have the absolute gift of getting to see Steven for potentially decades, maybe centuries longer than I’ll ever have! The two of you and the gems, will leave all of us humans behind. I’m sure you know how much Steven looks up to you. When I said what I did at the car wash I was worried that you wouldn’t be a good role model, as the only permanent male figure in his life. But I’ve never been gladder to be proved wrong.”

“I want to say that I shouldn’t have to prove myself, but knowing Steven, and his tendency to not realize that some people will take advantage of his kindness and don’t deserve it, I can’t say I blame you. I used to be one of those people that I try to protect him from now.” The deadpan look that Lars shot at Greg was softened compared to many of the faces he’d made throughout the day.

“I know.”

“But Pearl and I, really?” Lars was incredulous.

“I spent five years with Rose, and I’ve never learned so little about someone as I did with the gems. I got vague pieces. And even the pieces I did get, I had to pry and beg and hoard. Amethyst didn’t know anything about the war, Garnet’s always been pretty quiet about everything and, as you know, Pearl justifiably hated me.”

“We made up years ago, but sometimes I still feel guilty. I knew she loved Rose, and I knew how much she loved her. And I knew it was hurting her, but I stayed anyways. Pearl said she doesn’t blame me, but she should. I knew better, I knew we were heading down a painful path, but it was just easier to ignore it and pretend it wasn’t happening than to take that step and sit the three of us down to talk. It was like a damn game to me. Rose talked about how caring and brave and strong she was and I wanted to know that gem that loved Rose just as much as I did. But I only wanted to know the parts that fit my worldview at the time. The gems were – are – incredibly fascinating, and in the back of my mind, I knew Pearl was not a bad person. But I wasn’t much older than you, and I loved Rose, and she wanted a child.”

“I wish I could’ve known Pearl better instead of us spending twenty years bitterly sniping at each other. So to see you get so close to her so easily, as someone who is basically a human to her, annoyed me. I felt like I owed her for twenty years of pain, so when I thought you were trying to trick her, trying to use Rose to hurt her the way I did, I got even angrier.”

“I don’t know what else to tell you except that I was in the wrong, Lars, and I’m sorry. So, I guess to sum up, I’ll just admit I was a jealous bitter old man. But I want to know you better. I want to know the man that will grow old with my son.”

“You make it sound like we’re getting married. Have you given this speech to Connie yet?” Sticking out his tongue in mock disgust, Lars hoped Greg wouldn’t take the joke the wrong way. It was agreed by most everyone – himself and Sadie included – that Steven and Connie were meant for each other. And Lars imagined marrying Sadie someday, if she’d have him. But it wasn’t as though the joke he had made was an unpleasant or gross thought.

“Hopefully not for another four or five or ten years.” Greg’s face had gone comically pale at the thought of a wedding.

Lars cackled. “Looks like I know what to start goading Steven in to doing.”

So, friends?” Greg thrust his hand out with a cheery grin on his face.

Lars considered it for a long moment, chewing on the inside of his cheek. Then he squeezed Greg’s hand and shook it. “I don’t know if I can be friends with you just yet, but I think I’m okay with us starting over.”

In the back seat, Rose smiled so brightly her face hurt, clapping joyously that they were going to start over.

Greg clapped Lars on the back as they continued to shake hands. “Hello, I’m Greg Universe, Steven’s dad.”

“Hello Greg, I’m Lars, his frie- best friend and resident pink zombie.”

The two of them broke apart after that, both feeling much lighter than they had since everything began. There was still a heaviness in Greg’s eyes that betrayed his fresh grief, but Lars knew there was nothing he could do for that.

“Think your mom and Sadie will ever forgive me?” Greg asked suddenly.

“Mom will easily. She’s more flower child than scary biker. Sadie can and will hold a grudge for a long time. It’ll take a lot of work to get her to forgive you. But I think she will. She’s going to need another human to talk to when it comes to dealing with a nearly immortal boyfriend.” Lars smiled at Greg, and buckled up, turning to at least start driving again, knowing they’d wasted precious time.

Lars had just turned the key in the ignition when a thud rocked the Dondai dangerously. When Lars looked up it was into the dead expression of Lapis Lazuli, feet indented in the hood where she had smacked down, staring at the both of them through the windshield

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally here! Sorry for taking so long, life and then school and then a job happened, but now that things are finally settling down, I'm going to try and get a regular posting schedule again, but if I'm realistic it's most likely going to be every two weeks instead of at least once a week which I was trying to do for awhile there. 
> 
> Anyways, this chapter is a long one, but I hope it doesn't disappoint, I struggled a bit to get it down and to get back into the swing of writing again. But there's about 3 or 4 more chapters left, so not much longer to go now.
> 
> Lapis is finally here! After hinting and teasing, I've finally brought her into the story! And then after her chapter is Garnet, and then Steven! (And Connie, since I remember someone asking about her.) 
> 
> As always, thank you all for reading, I cannot tell you how much it means to me that you've read and stuck with this story for so long. Leave a comment if you like!


	16. Water Witch

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lars learns about about the beauty and the fury of the Ocean.

“Uh, dibs out?” Lars tried to joke, pupils dilated and hands becoming clammy.

Greg just slowly shook his head.

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” Lars waited for Rose to exit the car first, which she did with no hesitation, before following. Intrusively his brain told him to start the engine, gun the car and see what would happen, but he stomped on that thought as quickly as he could. Lapis Lazuli had drained all the water from the Earth at one point in time. He had no delusions about what she was capable of. A few seconds later Greg followed, and they stood around the car.

Lapis nodded curtly to Greg, and he looked like he wanted to say something back, but the fire burning in her eyes quelled all protest. “Lars,” She acknowledged, when she turned back to face him. She thrust out her hand palm down.

It took Lars a moment of staring dumbly before he figured out what she wanted. “Lapis.” After taking her hand, Lapis helped herself down. It was always a strange sensation for Lars, her skin was bone dry and he knew it, but her grasp always felt lonely, cold and wet. An indescribable sense of dread filled Lars. The feeling of drowning washed over him again, squeezing the air from his lungs.

The spell was broken as Lapis circled him, a shark enjoying the final death knell of her prey. She tugged lightly at his cape in places and then leaned down to quizzically examine his shoes for a few long moments. Then she stood in front of him again. The few inches of height that Lars had on her were not enough, and her intense stare thundered with pain, but he forced himself to keep eye contact with her. Lars had been afraid many times in his life, but not even Lapis would force his gaze down.

“Where is she?” Lapis’ voice was thunder.

“Here. Beside me.” Lars reached out for Rose, and she took his hand.

“How does it… work?” The crackly lighting of Lapis’ voice had him squeezing Rose’s hand as she snapped to look at them. She noticed his death grip on the air and raised a brow.

“I’m the only one that can see her, hear her, touch her. She’s intangible to everyone else.” A trickle of sweat rolled down Lars’ neck, collecting at the spot where it met his cape. He gulped, trying to eye Greg over the water gem’s shoulder.

“Did you really think you could make it in the van and then a boat? I’m the only one that can get you there before you run out of time.” Lapis showed off her teeth, but it wasn’t in a smile.

“Alright. Your shoes and cape look secure. Tell her if she wants to see Steven she better hold on tight.” Before Lars even had time to process Lapis’ instructions both her and Rose were moving. Lars thanked Rose’s quick reflexes and leadership skills later because otherwise they would’ve left her behind. At the same moment that Lapis stomped behind him and wrapped her arms around his chest under his armpits, Rose wrapped herself around his legs like a koala bear and then they were corkscrewing into the sky.

Lapis didn’t let him enjoy the flight, and that didn’t surprise Lars at all. He had forced his eyes closed until the corkscrewing stopped, breath coming in ragged pants through the howling air. Even so, it wasn’t much of an improvement when the spinning stopped. Because once it did, Lapis dove, flying fast and low and close to the dark, lurching ocean. They were so close Lars could smell the salt and feel the foam of the inky waters. When he dared to crack an eye open it was dark beneath him, a swirling, dangerous enigma, unlike the coral not far off the beach or the tide pools Sadie had found with him. The life that Lars knew was so abundant in the ocean was cold and far away.

Just when he had felt like he was starting to not be afraid, Lapis dropped him. The ocean swallowed him willingly.

Panic ripped him to pieces. Lars flailed, spun, lost track of which way was up, and bubbles exploded from his mouth, with water rushing in to take its place. Lars could hold his breath an immensely long time, since turning pink, but he still had to breathe, unlike the gems. The salt stung his eyes as he struggled to keep them open, until Rose slammed into his back, pushing with all her might until he moved. Sluggishly, he tried to help her, moving towards the warm light he saw. His head broke the water just long enough for him to grab enough air to start panicking again. And then the water began to drain.

The spiral tore Lars with it, and he was deposited, coughing and retching onto the dry ocean floor. Only a few minutes later, Rose crashed into him, and for a long time they lay on the ground as Lars caught his breath. When he finally picked himself up he almost wished he was still drowning.

Around them the ocean was a huge circle of watery walls, deep blue and filled with fish, eyeing him warily as they swam past. The dry, empty circle of land that Lapis had made for them was small, Lars found a berth of only a few feet between himself and the water gem. She had her hands in the wall of the water, and her forehead leaning against it, like it was solid, instead of liquid.

A splash alerted Lars to Lapis’ shaking fists, as they smashed against the watery wall. Long trails of tears flowed down her face, falling to the sand below that was so suddenly starved of water. Around them the circle became a vortex, stretching so high Lars hurt his neck trying to look up and see it, as Lapis collapsed into a sobbing pile on the ground.                           

Lars took a moment for himself with a few deep breaths, feeling Rose press closely behind him out of concern. He tried to remember what he knew about Lapis Lazuli – they’d never really interacted much, but she’d never gone out of her way to be cruel to him either. It flooded back with a lurch, part of it the highly edited version of the story Steven told him, and the rest part of Steven’s memories that had flooded across their shared headspace during one the time they had fused. It had been only their second or third time, when they were still getting used to Stars and things that were meant to be private had slipped through the mental barriers they had put up.

What she had done shone in Lars’ mind but it was difficult to begrudge Rose a decision made in the haste and hellfire of war, after being through one himself. Diamonds above, they had all done things that weren’t perfect or pleasant or simple. And if she had honestly thought Lapis was gone but for the echoes of her essence powering the mirror, well? But then again, why didn’t she check? But from what he knew, Lapis had never seemed too keen on Earth. Most likely she would’ve flown back to Homeworld, taking the ocean with her, and with no Steven to talk her down back then. Was the sacrifice of the well-being of one gem worth the temporary safety it might have bought them during the war? It was a difficult thought to wrestle with, one that he hadn’t considered before, especially without having the full story. And Lars wouldn’t say it out loud, but he almost understood why Rose had done it, though he hardly condoned it.

Lars was still certain that he didn’t particularly like Rose, but it felt wrong to call her evil the way he did with the Diamonds. Complex, complicated, paradoxical? All that and more. But Lars had seen the warmth and love Rose gave and all that the others returned, and couldn’t say for certain whether she was good or bad.

With those thoughts warring in his head, he cautiously approached Lapis Lazuli. “Hey. Uh. I know we don’t really interact much, but uh…”

“I don’t like humans.” Lapis looked up at him through tear soaked bangs. “They pollute my ocean, overfish, and are just genuinely a nuisance.”

“Yeah, we are.” Lars agreed with a hollow smile.

Lapis raised a brow, but then pointed at him and then at the ground. Lars took a seat behind her, leaning his back up against hers.

Eventually, she sighed out, “I feel nothing.”

“What?”

“I’m angry, of course I am. I’m angry that I had to find out about this via a rumor, that even Peridot was so worried I’d freak that she didn’t want to tell me. I’m angry that it’s you. Why you? Why are you her voice? It should be Steven. I’m angry at myself that I’m so caught up in this that I stopped us here, instead of taking us to see him. It wasn’t a lie, you’d have never gotten there in time without me. But I know he deserves it, deserves to see her. He deserves all the good things in this world. Here we are though. I feel angry about all these things. And yet I feel nothing for _her._ ”

The amount of venom Lapis could put into one world was frankly impressive, in Lars’ opinion. And the way Rose seemed to be reeling showed him that she was quite in agreement. Feeling nothing indeed.

“I’m just numb.” Lapis wiped at her tears, and leaned back against Lars’ body, until their heads touched.

“When I moved into the Temple, and had to see her picture above the door every day, I wanted to rip it down and smash it into a million pieces, burn the pieces and then sprinkle the ashes in my ocean. I hated Rose so much back then. I hated her so much it hurt.” Lapis shook her head with such force that her tears flew everywhere. Above them the vortex stretched, collapsed in on itself and then started to fall, turning it into a slowly shrinking dome.

“And then slowly, I stopped noticing it. And then my heart stopped lurching if I accidentally looked at it, and then one day, it just didn’t matter anymore. I guess I just got busy. With Peridot and Steven, and even the other gems, excepting Bismuth of course. Did you know that Pearl likes the ocean as much as I do? I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised, seeing as most pearls are born in ocean like places.” Lapis’ angry, deadpan voice was growing lighter, fonder even.

“Yeah, I knew that. Pearl and I are friends, Lapis. But, um…” Lars hesitated briefly, then, “I don’t understand what the problem is? Sorry?”

The vortex exploded in a column again. Lapis leapt to her feet, eyes blazing with anger again. “The problem is that she deserves it! Rose deserves my hate, and anger, and fear and pity! She deserves all that and more, and yet I’m just indifferent! Do you have any idea how angry I am that I’m ‘just indifferent’ to her now? I don’t care anymore! I don’t want justification, I don’t want to talk to her, I don’t want her here, but that’s only because I don’t feel anything for her! I don’t want to feel anything for her, but I don’t want that either.”

“I’m so confused.” Lapis eventually admitted when she calmed down, shoulders drooping in exhaustion.

Rose was a mirror to Lapis’ confusion and sorrow. Something unnameable swelled in Lars, and he rose to his feet a roaring tide. Dusting off his clothes, straightening his still dripping cape, and clenching his fists, Lars felt ready.

Marching firmly to Lapis Lazuli, he took her arm, gently and smoothly pulling her along, until they arrived at the wall of water. With a simple hand gesture to the wall, Lapis had opened up a path for them, and then they disappeared inside it, as it closed behind them.

The tiny column of air that Lapis had made for them was about the size of the closet, placing them almost nose to nose. The few inches between them suddenly seemed more in his favor, as Lapis looked up at him through wet lashes, tired to her aritificial bones.

“Are you going to telling me how to live too?” Lapis bristled. “Everyone does. Even Rose’s picture when I looked at it used to scream at me that I could never live up to the pedestal they all put her on. It told me what to feel and how to live to be ‘good’ and yet I still feel nothing when I see it now. So, you going to patronize me too?”

“Lapis, I - I guess I don’t actually know what to tell you.” Lars fisted a hand through his hair in frustration, feeling suddenly stupid and young and weary. “I’m a twenty-three year old human. I have no delusions about the fact that I have only a fraction of a glimpse into your extraordinarily long life. I truly can’t even imagine what you’ve been through. I just wanted to talk to you in private. Away from Rose.”

“Why?”

“Cause this conversation might hurt her even more than the others. And I think what I’ve said to her is finally getting through to her. She doesn’t need to regress when she’s so close to the end of her time here. You said you don’t care anymore, so why hurt either of you by even having this conversation to begin with?”

Lars crossed his arms and leaned back slightly, the bottom of his cape slipping close to the edge of the watery walls, and turned his head away, biting his lip.

“Tell me what you were going to say.”

“Just a stupid human thing.”

“Well, I want to hear it. And you’re the one that brought us in here, so don’t make it a waste of time!” Lapis snarked at him.

“Fine.” Lars grumbled. “It’s stupid human platitudes, but people say it all the time: the best revenge is a life well lived. And since Rose is dead… well. I mean you’ve already been sort of doing it, y’know? She doesn’t control you anymore, not even your emotions. And after this she’s gone forever, she’ll get to see Steven maybe two hours, if we hurry. But you’ll get to see him for as long as he lives. Just thought that might be meaningful to remind you of.”

Lars leaned forward again, passionately waving his hands through the air, using them to talk. “You’re confused and that’s fine. But if you want to know what I was going to say, then I’ll add that you shouldn’t be. You know how you feel about Rose: she doesn’t matter to you anymore.”

“It’s like the trauma was from someone else.” Lapis admitted ashamedly. “Am I allowed to move on? Because that’s what it feel like. I just don’t care. I have so many other gems and things to do, that it doesn’t matter.”

“You don’t have to forgive and forget it, either. Even if you feel nothing for Rose anymore.” Lars dared to lay a calming touch to Lapis’ shoulder and she accepted it with another raised brow and curious frown.

“You know, Lars, as far as humans go, I think I dislike you the least.” A small real smile – the first, since she’d landed on the Dondai – cracked across Lapis’ face, and Lars felt like crying out in joy.

Then Lapis’ face changed. “Well, if I’m honest that would be Connie, actually. She’s a good human. And I dislike Greg very little. And your girlfriend isn’t so bad. So actually you’re like my third or fourth least disliked human. Yeah, that sounds about right, third or fourth.”

“So, feeling better?” Lars asked daringly.

“Oh, not remotely,” Lapis replied with a laugh. “I’m still angry for all the reasons that I said. And I still don’t care about Rose anymore. But that can wait. You’re running out of time, aren’t you?”

Lars gulped before daring to look at his watch. Two and a half hours. Before he had time to speak Lapis was dragging him through the wall of water – Lars barely had time to hold his breath and then he was out on the other side – back to Rose. She jolted when they came back, relief pouring through her features. She’d genuinely thought they’d left her.

“Just remember, I’m doing this for Steven, and not cause I don’t dislike you, okay?” Lapis jabbed Lars in the cheek to punctuate each word.

“O-okay.”

With little warning, Lapis had her hands under his armpits again, and Rose was grabbing onto him like a koala, and then they were blasting off into the sky, the dark ocean washing away the spot where they had been.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'll be honest: this chapter took a long ass time because I wrote it completely, hated it, scrapped most of it and then rewrote it to this. This version is drastically different, but I feel like it is the stronger statement, and part of it drew on my own experience with a traumatic even wherein I'm simply indifferent now, and I sometimes wonder if I'm allowed to be indifferent, and that I didn't even realize I stopped caring because I started living for myself and not the people who hurt me. I hope I conveyed a least a little of that in this chapter. 
> 
> I sort of wanted to convey that Lapis isn't totally healed yet, but she just got too busy living to keep letting Rose control her. 
> 
> There's not much Rose in this chapter, but there isn't supposed to be. But she'll get more of story time in the next chapter, because that one's Garnet's. 
> 
> As always, thanks for sticking with this story, reading and reviewing, please leave a comment if you liked it, or even if you hated it, I don't write Lapis much, so this chapter was a bit of a struggle for me honestly.


	17. Patient Fury

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lars and Rose get closer to seeing Steven. Garnet, however, is first, and she will not be denied the same chance the other gems had.

“Hey, I didn’t give you permission to enjoy the flight.” Lapis chuckled darkly when Lars skimmed the water with his fingers as they flew low and fast near the ocean. His whole expression was painted with pure joy at the ever changing water beneath him, equal parts serene, mysterious and deadly.

Lars stuck his tongue out at her. A tight, rakish grin was all Lapis returned. “We’re here.” Her voice was sing-song and siren, distracting Lars from her fingers leaving his body.

The air lurched beneath him, his stomach dropped, and then Lapis had her hands tightly on him again, switching from having her arms wrapped around his chest to merely hanging on by his armpits. For a moment they hung still in the air and then Lapis swooped up, around and dropped Lars and Rose onto the island.

Lars screamed. Until Garnet caught him. “Hi.”

Lars didn’t even need to ask how Garnet had figured out to save him. As she carefully deposited him on the ground, his body shook, adrenaline – or at least as much as could pass through him with his lowered heart rate – spiking through his body. Heat flooded into him, and he felt himself collapse, having forgotten that Rose was tangled around his legs.

When Lars pulled himself into a sitting position he felt sweat coat his body immediately. The island Lapis had dropped them on was hot and oddly humid, it’s atmosphere separate and unique from the rest of the outside world. Garnet smiled at him tenderly and held up an old fraying t-shirt, washed so much that whatever design it might’ve had had been long washed away. It was probably one of Steven’s he’d outgrown, but at the moment Lars didn’t care, and he stripped gratefully and pulled it on, folding his shirt and cape with gentle reverence. Garnet was one of the few people Lars didn’t feel uncomfortable changing around.

It was likely because Garnet always made him feel ten feet tall. Bismuth offered sugary affection and kindness the like which Lars hadn’t known he needed, but Garnet offered strength. Her own, and her firm belief in his. Whenever Lars was around Garnet he wanted to puff out his chest and do better, be his best possible self, even when it felt impossible. With Steven it was okay to be afraid, with Garnet there was never a need.

Finally, Rose, dizzy and confused, grief sick and tired, untangled herself from Lars legs to stare morosely at the sun. It’s not like she could hurt her eyes as a ghost. Lars thrust his hand out and Garnet took it, pulling him effortlessly to standing.

“Hey,” he finally replied.

“I was wondering when you’d drop in.” The corner of Garnet’s mouth quirked ever so slightly.

Lars smirked, refusing to break from her joke.

Rose lost it, however, perking up immediately to standing, laughing deeply all the while. “I missed you so, Garnet.”

A twinge of pain shot through Lars and he rubbed at his neck, sore from Lapis’ manhandling. A grimace troubled his face and he stared a Rose, quirking a careful brow in her direction. She merely smiled at him.

“Don’t look like that Lars! It’s not like I’ve forgotten any of the things I’ve learned today, but this is Garnet! I know she’ll be happy to see me! She was the one who encouraged Greg and I after all!” Rose’s earlier melancholy was diminished, but not gone, Lars noted to immense relief, the falsetto of Rose’s voice just slightly too high pitched, with a crackle of tears held back only by an iron will.

Lars grumbled low in his chest, and then turned back to Garnet, firm and questioning, arms crossed across her chest and expression schooled to blankness. Lars shivered. Lapis was a force of nature, a roaring hurricane that stole the breath that you could only run and scream away from. But Garnet? Garnet was a monolith, patient and kind. Garnet didn’t have to ask for an answer, because Lars knew he would freely give it to her, without any prompting.

“Do you know why I’m here?” Lars asked. He still didn’t fully understand Garnet’s future seeing abilities, even after having it explained to him, but he trusted her enough that he didn’t need to.

Garnet snorted. The corner of her mouth quirked into the facsimile of a grimace, but was quickly tempered back to stoniness. Lars wondered what her eyes were saying behind her visor. “No. I can’t see things that I don’t have any knowledge of. But I know you’re not here for company or to bring good news. Almost all of our futures involve crying.”

“Yeah. Seems like all I’ve been doing is crying. What’s a few more tears?” Lars tried to sound flippant when he said it, but he found himself unable to look Garnet in the eyes, awkwardly rubbing his arm with his other hand. With Steven and Pearl he was an equal, another once broken person that was just trying to do his best. But Garnet was different. Garnet wasn’t just a friend, he looked up to her, and valued her advice and regard deeply, even if he ignored one or two pieces of it regularly.

Garnet replied to him quickly, cutting through his awkwardness and drawing his gaze back to her immediately. “Neither Pearl nor Amethyst would tell me, even though I found both of them consoling each other. Sheena just looked at me sadly and would not meet my eyes. I know you’re here to see Steven. I’ve seen that much. I want to know what you’ve said to cause my family so much pain Lars, and why I should let you cause him the same pain.”

A pinprick of adrenaline exploded and then died within him. It felt evil. It would probably cause Garnet pain, as much as he liked to let Sadie and Ronaldo think Garnet was an unflappable monolith. But he’d seen the truth, he knew better. It was a necessary task, Lars knew, but that didn’t make it any less difficult. When he’d told Pearl he’d wanted help, wanted proof of Rose, and perhaps the chance to have someone else shoulder the burden he’d been given. Amethyst had asked, and he would tell Steven because he deserved that choice. But Lars had grown reserved in the telling in the hours since he’d met Rose, reserved and tired. It would likely cause Garnet pain, but he didn’t know for sure. Didn’t think he wanted to know.

“Rose is here, Garnet. I don’t understand how, not really, but I know it’s her. That’s why everyone is hurting.” Lars wanted to say more, but there was so much to tell, so much that had happened in less than a day, and much he was still ashamed of.

When Garnet didn’t respond, didn’t move, didn’t even breathe, Lars gulped and continued, wringing his hands together with nervous energy. “Only I can see her. I think it’s because I’m like Lion, but we’ll see how he reacts when I finally see him. She… She wanted to meet her son.” The explanation felt hollow in his mouth. As if that was all the excuse Rose needed to so cruelly uproot the ease their lives had finally settled into.

Lars had to work to keep from closing his eyes and curling in on himself, feeling like a child who had disappointed his parents, but not really being sure why or how. In the tense silence his mouth opened and words poured out in a ramble, unable to be stopped. “Rose used some magic – a gem called Aventurine – didn’t see her though – just before she died giving birth – in the past – traded some memories for the chance to see Steven – and I guess make new ones?”

It was a mostly rhetorical question, but Lars turned to Rose anyways, eager to have someone else talking. He was not so lucky. Rose was frozen, pain dripping from her features and Lars turned back to try and find out why. The most imperceptible shake of Garnet’s form was visible and her hands couldn’t keep still, one bouncing on her thigh and the other clenching, unclenching and forming a thumbs up and then back again.

“I’m angry.” Shame colored Lars cheeks. “But not at you.” The flush faded, but only just. And then Garnet was dissolving into a bright white light and in her place were two much smaller gems.

Lars had only met Ruby and Sapphire once, thankfully and surprisingly in peace times, and he had liked them both immediately. Sapphire was calm, exceedingly so, and something about her made him feel safe and warm. Ruby wore her heart on her sleeve and Lars liked to that, liked to see someone so fantastically and emotionally honest with herself. He’d been shy at first of Ruby, too in awe of her earnest straight forwardness to feel anything but bashful. But then he’d gotten to know both of them in the near twenty four hours following and realized that he’d been clouding his head with first impressions again. Sapphire was calming, true, but she could also be nervous and awkward, just like him, and Ruby was an uncomfortable mirror of his own self-deprecation. Even so, he still liked them immensely, whether as themselves or Garnet.

So when they materialized Lars had been going to smile and wave, until he saw their crestfallen faces. If he’d thought Amethyst had been a tiny explosion when he’d talked to her, then Ruby was a supernova. She burst into flames immediately, scorching the ground beneath her, and Lars stumbled backwards in instinctual, primitive fear.

Looking to Sapphire buckled his knees, and he wisely just decided to stay sitting on the ground where he was. Pure fury had etched Sapphire’s face to stone, and a sheet of ice stretched out from her feet, shattering the ground where it touched. In the middle a stream of water formed where Ruby’s fire and Sapphire’s ice met, forming a small snake that wound its way past Lars.

Someone had to give first and it was Ruby. She screamed loudly, and rushed to the nearest tree, destroying it with her tiny bare hands. It scorched and crackled as she screamed and tore it to pieces, and Lars felt the heat even from how far away he was. And yet when the first flush of fear faded it did not return. He trusted Ruby and Sapphire and Garnet.

Lars was dimly aware that Ruby was yelling something, (it was ‘fuck’, Rose noted) but it was nearly unintelligible through her emotions. When the tree finally crumbed to ash that floated slowly to the ground, Ruby set to pacing a scorched line in the earth behind Sapphire, her arms flailing and animated with her emotions. A dagger sliced through Rose, she had wanted more time with Ruby and Sapphire to be sure, but not like that.

“I don’t want to be the bigger gem, either, this time.” Sapphire was quiet when she spoke and yet the force of the words alone stopped Ruby in her tracks, hands frozen in the air, and mouth agape. The wave of her quiet voice hit Lars, filled with a cold fury that bounced and rattled through his chest and then left through his mouth with a single breathy “Woah.”

Ruby was mad. Sapphire was mad. So when they fused into Garnet all she could latch onto was the red hot anger of both of them and so Garnet was mad too. It was impossible not to stare when Garnet removed her visor. All three of her eyes locked onto him and finally he managed to pull himself to shaky knees and stand.

“Of all the selfish, stubborn, bullheaded things you could’ve done… and you pick the most irresponsible one!” Lars noticed quite pointedly that it wasn’t a question.

It had taken him a long time to figure out that Garnet didn’t ask questions. When he had realized that the sensation in the back of his brain telling him something was noticeably different about Garnet’s pattern of speech compared to the other gems was right he had unwittingly gasped, struck dumb in the middle of Steven’s kitchen. Garnet had caught the measuring cup he had dropped with unnatural quickness and answered his question without being asked.

Well, she hadn’t answered it per say, she’d merely confirmed that he was correct and left it at that. Lars saw no need to seek further clarification, as achingly curious as he was. It was not a story to ask about.

“Garnet! You’re supposed to be on my side here! You’re the one that encouraged Greg and I, after all.” Rose whined.

It was out of Lars’ mouth before he even realized he was interrupting Garnet. He’d gotten lost in thought, but parroting Rose was starting to become natural. Concerningly natural. Garnet was also easy to talk to, and even if she would be disappointed he had never felt like Garnet was someone he had to tread carefully around when it came to talking. Garnet stopped her rant to contemplate him, as he pressed his fingers to his lips, trying to figure out if he had really spoken or not.

“Wait. No.” Rose threw up her hands immediately, running to Lars’ side as though that would make him talk faster than he already was. “That is true. That’s how I feel. But Lars has been showing me that maybe what I’ve been feeling isn’t correct. That I hurt you, deeply, and that I need to think about what I did to all of you. And I’m so terribly sorry.”

“I’ll be honest, Rose. I didn’t see that coming.” Garnet stopped completely, surprised once again by how easily fate could be thwarted. “But I’m still angry at you! You can’t just apologize this away, Rose! Being sorry means more than just saying it, it means improving and showing it! And you’re dead.”

Garnet was calmer, but that was almost worse, in Lars’ opinion. It was the calm, almost silent anger that she was so, so good it. The kind of anger that hurt both her and everyone else. Patient fury, indeed.

With a huff she let her visor dissolve and settled herself on the ground, crossed legged, motioning for Lars to do the same. “I can’t forgive you now, because you didn’t deserve to be forgiven then.”

Carefully Lars sat down in front of Garnet, their positions familiar from their days meditating together. Rose scooted close to him, as though he was the only lifeline she had left. Maybe that was true though.

“None of this anger is for you, Lars. I can’t tell you if you and Steven will be okay, after this, but I can’t guarantee that you won’t either.” The warm, low baritone of Garnet’s voice was calming and Lars nodded to her. He hadn’t realized how much he’d needed the reassurance, or how much it still scared him.

“Rose.” Garnet raised a brow, unsure of where Rose physically was, but uncaring either. “First of all, using an Aventurine like this is incredibly irresponsible, and I know I warned you against doing anything drastic when you were pregnant. But you always did what you wanted, so I guess my advice meant nothing. Time and the future are not just things to be played with, and you know what Aventurines can be like! You had no way of knowing whether she’d actually be able to get you here! I can only imagine what you traded her. ”

“Twenty four hours of precious memories.” Lars explained it for Rose, feeling his speech mimic her own a bit as some of the guilt in her voice crept into his.

Garnet looked like she was trying very, very hard not to bury her face in her palms. “Gambling is foolish, Rose.”

“Not if you win.”

“This conversation used to be reversed in the war, Rose. You were much more careful, then.”

“We all lost something, Garnet.”

“That’s not an excuse!” Her shout rang loudly through the island, and she smashed the ground so hard, Lars felt it shake beneath him.

“That was never an excuse. It never should’ve been. For me, either.” A tinge of shame colored Garnet’s voice and it grew thicker as she spoke.

“Damnit, Rose! You broke Pearl! And I helped.” This was a new level of expressiveness from Garnet that Lars was seeing and it was strange to see her face look so guilty and hollow.

“I don’t know what her and Amethyst said to you…” Garnet trailed off, waiting for Rose to elaborate without having to be asked.

While he explained in as few sentences as possible Lars carefully added in how much of a time limit they were still on, and that he would be seeing Steven.

At one point Garnet stopped him with a hand and said, “The others got to say their piece, it’s only fair I say mine. Or at least the most important part before I send you on to Steven.”

“I never wanted to be leader, Rose. I wasn’t ready. By all accounts, it should’ve been Pearl. She was your right hand, she taught me to fight, and is my oldest, best and first friend. But after you died I didn’t see her smile for years. I had to step up, because Amethyst and Pearl retreated inward and lashed out. And then when Steven got old enough I had to watch Pearl look at him and see you and remind him constantly that he could never be you. She didn’t deserve that, and neither did he! And I was stuck in the middle of two people I loved. And then, just when I thought she might be getting better she broke my trust. I spent more than a week not talking to her. I unfused, Rose! Most of it was her fault, but part of it was yours, because she was still broken.”

For each point Garnet made she jabbed her finger towards Rose, who wilted further and further in on herself. “I didn’t realize then how much I was hurting Pearl when I encouraged Greg and you to act on your feelings. When I look back at that story it feels like we made her the bad guy for something she had every right to be mad about. I know you three talked about it, but I still had a part to play in it.”

“But that’s not the part that makes me angriest.” Garnet sighed out, the anger sticking in her throat.

Rose just sat next to Lars, too numb from the day to protest even Garnet yelling at her. Garnet’s voice was low and scratchy when she continued, “I’ve spent a lot of time thinking about these things. About how you’re gone. About how I’d never get closure. I put everything away because I didn’t want to hurt Steven. I never wanted him to feel unwanted, but I don’t think we always succeeded at that.”

Garnet pursed her lips, then let out a long shuddering breath, looking like she wanted to cry or unfuse again. In a few seconds though she stabilized herself and Lars waited. Waited to bear witness.

Garnet’s voice rose powerfully as spoke, becoming angrier and angrier as the sentences wore on. “The part that makes me angriest is that you didn’t include us, Rose! You didn’t tell us or come talk to us about having a baby. We were clueless. You know Pearl would’ve moved Heaven and Earth for you, and Amethyst and I would’ve helped her. I love Steven and I don't regret him being born, but... but sometimes I wish we could have had both of you. If you had just talked to us... we could’ve found a solution that meant you didn’t die. A solution that meant we wouldn’t lose the only family we had left, Rose.”

“When did you stop fucking trusting us?”

Everything froze. Even, Lars was certain, his heart, for a moment. Garnet, too, was frozen mid-air, fist clenched where it had been about to strike the ground again. Not only had she sworn, which Lars had never heard, but she broke her one greatest rule in her anger.

“Garnet!” Rose tried to reach for her, understanding immediately the devastation that was slowly illuminating Garnet’s features.

“Go.” Garnet growled it.

“Yep.” Lars jumped to his feet and hooked Rose around the waist, dragging her limply into the forest towards a thin path.

The air stayed thick and heavy with grief and anger long after he left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's finally back! 
> 
> I'm so sorry for the wait, it was just as rough for me as it must've been for you, believe me. But school happened and then horrifying writer's block and a bunch of other life stuff got in the way. But don't worry. This will be finished.
> 
> I don't have much to say about this chapter, except that I hope I did okay. Garnet is fun to write, but also difficult and I wanted to give a chapter that I could be proud of. But I also wanted it to feel slightly different in that Lars' rant from the barn is finally sinking in and Rose is taking (a little) responsibility for the pain she unknowingly caused. I also didn't want to just completely re-hash the points Amethyst and Pearl brought up. Mostly I just think Garnet would be angry, and trust seems to be incredibly important to her, so I went with that angle for her feelings towards Rose. Hope I didn't do too bad a job, this chapter was even harder than Lapis's! Luckily, I have the rest of the fic all figured out exactly where I want to go, so it shouldn't be too long between updates, a week at most for the next one. There's gonna be two more chapters and an epilogue after this. 
> 
> Next chapter is Steven! (and Connie. And Lion.) 
> 
> Thank you so much for your patience, thanks for coming back, and as always, thank you for reading. Leave a comment if you're so inclined!


	18. Divinity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Lars and Rose finally see Steven and Connie.

The rejection from Garnet had been the worst of all so far. For a moment Lars wondered if instead of worrying about Steven’s mental health at seeing his mother if he shouldn’t be worried about the opposite. Rose wasn’t perfect and he didn’t like her. But when she ran out of time she would die. Even she didn’t deserve to die with a heart full of broken thoughts and angry words.

They had two hours of the twenty-four left, and Lars felt sick again. He knew how cruel fate could be. Had Rose traded away twenty-four incredibly precious hours for nothing? Was even one hour with her son worth that much? He suspected he’d never know.

The foliage was dense and Lars drenched his shirt with sweat within a few minutes of pushing through it. Rose could follow along easily, silent and thoughtful, her intangibility making things very efficient. Despite that she lagged behind, but every time Lars stopped to open his mouth and try to speak to her she would take his hand and surge angrily and determinedly forward.

The path was worn and twisting, but grew much clearer and easier to navigate within fifteen minutes in, and by twenty – leaving them with a little more than an hour and a half – they had reached the mouth of a large clearing. Their vision was blocked by a final batch of large ferns and Lars took a breath to steel himself before stepping forward to finally confront the person he had been searching for, for so many hours.

The clearing was gorgeous. The trees created a perfect secluded semi-circle that bled into a tiny lake, a waterfall exactly opposite where Lars was standing trickling softly into it. Lion rested nearby, lying on his side and warming himself in the sun. And just as gorgeous as the clearing was the fusion and gem within it.

Stevonnie was sitting cross legged and close to the gem, voice low, paper and crayons scattered about. They had been learning written Gem from Pearl in hopes that it would bridge some of the communication gap between them and the corrupted gems.

Lars hadn’t seen that particular corrupted gem before, but based on the more human like features she possessed compared to the others, he suspected that she had made significant progress in the short time that Stevonnie had been helping her.

Both parties snapped their heads to look at him when he noisily stepped into the clearing. Stevonnie’s eyes lit up. The gem, on the other hand, panicked, spooked by his sudden arrival. Her features regressed immediately as she screeched, and then she was lunging for Lars, all teeth and anger.

“Shit!” Lars rolled out of the way immediately, battle reflexes coming back to him in an instant. He hit the ground, pushed off, and breathing heavily, dove both his hands into his hair for his swords. While he did he got a look at the gem whose therapy he had ruined.

She was serpentine, long and smooth, with no legs, unlike Centipeedle. Yellow with brown patches, and gleaming spotted gem of the same pattern that Lars couldn’t name was all he was able to pick out before she was roaring at him again. He managed to deflect the blow with one sword brought up to his protect his face, but his other hand was slower ( _stupid, sloppy, going to get someone killed_ echoed through his head) and the sword was batted from his grip by the force of the attack.

Lars lunged after it, sliding on the ground, but the gem was coming quickly and he knew he wouldn’t have time to get his swords up. A shout distracted the gem, and Stevonnie bore down on her, lethal and graceful in equal measures.

Lars froze, like he always did when he was watching Stevonnie in battle. Puberty had hit Steven hard, and he shot up to seven and a quarter feet tall, not quite reaching his mother’s impressive height likely because of his half human heritage. He wore his hair long, down nearly to his butt and it was sickeningly curly and beautiful. Not only did he grow tall, he grew broad. And yet he never lost that part of his softness that made him so wonderful. A layer of pudge softened the powerful muscles of his arms and back, and the tiny boy that had been so impressive had turned into a large, even more impressive man.

Puberty had treated Connie well too. She was immensely proud that, at six foot one, she was just taller than Pearl, and sometimes she stood all the straighter just to accentuate that. In contrast to Steven, Connie was thin and hard, all the dull, blunt parts her hammered and sharpened into a deadly weapon. Connie was stronger than any sword she’d ever held in her hand. A scar travelled from just below her left ear to cup her cheek and dip down to her neck, growing thicker and mottled as it did so. Connie wielded it like a source of pride, her hair shorn into a short bob, an act of defiantly refusing to hide her scars.

Together they created Stevonnie, who Lars and Sadie had both properly struggled to figure out their feelings for as they watched them grow. God or goddess were too gendered of terms, so eventually they had settled on ‘divine being’. Because Stevonnie was _divine._ Like Garnet, they were a perfect fusion, a flawless blend of everything that was good about Steven and Connie. They towered above everyone, ten feet tall, and deserving wholly of every inch they had above the rest of them.

In battle, in motion, they were even more amazing. Sword and shield weren’t weapons, but extensions of their body, beautiful and breathtaking. Both Lars and Sadie had had a lot to unpack the first time they met the older, more beautiful Stevonnie. Luckily, they had been practicing honest communication enough at that point that they could do so together. They both had a mix of toxic jealously about the depth and ease of Steven and Connie’s relationship and their ability to fuse. Coupled with that were confusing warm feelings ( _am I attracted to them or do I want to BE them?)_ that had taken its toll on the relationships between all of them at first.

Lars’ thoughts were interrupted by the sound of his name tearing from Stevonnie’s throat. The gem hissed and growled in pain from the fighting, but had clearly grown weary of engaging an enemy that was stronger than it. She had turned back to Lars and was only a few feet away, closing fast and too close for Lars to do anything about. All he could do was raise his sword and empty hand pathetically, shamefully, wondering how he’d lost so much skill at fighting in the short eight months he’d been gone.

Lars cringed, bracing for impact, eyes shut so tightly they hurt. It never came. Instead he felt himself scooped up, and moved out of the way just in time, a hot brush of air washing over him from the gem’s tail only just missing him. Rose had grabbed him around the waist, and hauled both of them bodily away. The gem had struck her, but as usual she felt no pain.

However, the move served to confuse the gem, who screeched and shivered and circled herself. Stevonnie dispatched her mercifully and quickly, bubbling the gem with a relieved sigh. Their sigh turned into a noise of concern when they saw Lars, seemingly floating in the air, as though some invisible entity was carrying him bridal style. But then they blinked and he was standing again, and they wondered if it was just the heat or a trick of the light.

A surge of affection overwhelmed them, and their shield dissolved away, their sword was tossed to the side and then they were sweeping Lars into a bone crushing hug. Lars squirmed and grumbled good-naturedly, and they were sure they caught something about ‘you sappy dork,’ but he did eventually reciprocate. The hug was short, but filled with so much of the warmth he’d been missing in culinary school. No one there was nearly as affectionate as all the people he cared about in Beach City.

Concern painted Stevonnie’s face when they put Lars back down. “Your nose?” They licked their finger.

“Oh, hell no!” Lars laughed, ducking under their arm and darting away. “Keep your gross spit to yourself, I’ll heal up on my own.”

“You’ve only been back a few days and yet the first time I see you is with a broken nose? Or did you miss me that much?” Stevonnie tried to joke, but there was concern hidden in their voice. Lars didn’t get hurt easily.

“That’s kind of why I’m here….” Lars trailed off when he finally turned back to Stevonnie, noticing Lion for the first time along with them. At some point in their fight with the gem he had woken up. And there, next to the shining lake, he was licking and nuzzling against Rose.

Tinkling laughter, playful and chiming, the first resurgence of the flirty Rose that had met him outside the Big Donut, filled Lars’ ears, and he was honestly happy that Rose had that much at least. It was clear that Lion was like him, he could see and touch and hear Rose, and he was doing his best to revel in it as much as possible.

Rose laughed heartily and Lion purred, licking her, rolling and rubbing against her skinny body. She scratched behind his ears, petting him with both hands as he nosed into her hair.

To say Stevonnie was confused at the sight of Lion interacting with an invisible entity was the understatement of Lars’ life. “Lars?”

“That’s also why I’m here,” He mumbled slowly, pointing at the scene in front of them.

The gears ground in Stevonnie’s head. “You brought an invisible… person? Gem? Here? Is that why Garnet let you past?” Stevonnie’s voice grew several octaves higher as they descended into panicked guessing. “It has to be something dangerous if you just came in here while I was with a corrupted gem! You could’ve been hurt or she could’ve been hurt or… what the heck is going on Lars?”

“Stevonnie.” Taking their elbow, Lars held their gaze and hardened his heart and voice. Stevonnie stopped immediately. “I am running out of time. I need you to listen to what I’m going to say. I need you to believe me right away.”

“Yes. One hundred percent.” Stevonnie nodded with total seriousness. “I trust you, Lars. You know that?”

“Yes, of course.” Lars released their arm suddenly, popping to stand beside Rose.

“Lars, Lars! Come say hello to Lion! At least someone’s completely happy to see me!” Rose reached for his hand, guiding it to the fur of Lion, who nuzzled into it, uncharacteristically friendly to him. For a second he worried his hand would sink into Lion’s hair, the way it did his own and enter that strange place he hated. But it didn’t and he took a moment to soothe himself by petting Lion.

Then he cleared his throat, and turned around, standing between Rose and Stevonnie. “Lars?” They both asked at the same time, fear and excitement mirrored in their eyes. Lars nodded at Rose. No turning back.

“This is Stevonnie. They are the perfect fusion of Steven Universe and Connie Maheswaran. Connie is… um… Steven’s girlfriend.” Lars trailed the introduction off awkwardly, but Rose was beaming and squealing and looked a second away from exploding with happiness.

“You never told me about this Connie! Is she a gem? No, that doesn’t make sense, I know every kind of gem. Then she’s a human! My baby can fuse with humans?”

Rose picked up Lars and was twirling him, and it was his turn to latch onto her like a koala, because otherwise he knew she’d send him flying. “Yes! Yes! Steven can fuse with humans because he’s half human! I’m trying to introduce you! Put me down, Rose!”

The moment ground to a halt. Lars clapped his hands over his mouth. He had been hoping to bring her up more tactfully but part of him was glad that it was at least over with. He’d been agonizing over how to bring it up since they’d entered the clearing.

Stevonnie stuttered like a broken record. “MomQuartz?, RoseMOM? Lars!” And then they broke apart.

Shakily, Lars untangled himself from Rose, afraid to look at his two prone friends on the ground. It had been a long time since they had involuntarily unfused.

A pained sob rent the clearing. Lars turned and… it was Connie, sniffling and crying, face red. She swallowed so hard it was audible. Lars knew instantly how she was feeling. It was anger, the kind of anger that mixed with shame and choked you with a huge lump in your throat that made your emotions swirl and scream until you drowned.

“Connie!” Steven was beside her in an instant. “What happened? Are you hurt?”

Connie tried to hold back the flood of tears, but choked wetly and buried her face in Steven’s chest instead. Rose wilted and cowed at the girl’s reaction, confused and sad. For his part, Lars stared awkwardly at his shoes, scuffing them in the dirt and making a small divot there. It felt less impolite than staring. Steven coughed suddenly and he snapped his head up. Steven was motioning away from him, trying to soothe a distraught Connie.

It took him a moment but eventually he realized what Steven was trying to say, and sprinted the short distance across the clearing, grabbed Steven’s ratty cheeseburger backpack and was sliding to his side in a second, holding it up like a lifeline. Steven dug into in to it quickly, pulling out water and a box of tissues.

That offering seemed to calm Connie down slightly, and she managed to regulate her breathing long enough to blow her nose and then drink some water. A jolt passed through Lars when Rose placed a hand on his shoulder, breaking the intensity of the moment and reminding him of her presence. Connie noticed. She’d always been too keenly observant about some things.

The sadness on her face twisted into a snarl, and she pulled away from Steven to pull her knees up to her chest, anger making her a slave. Steven slid back a bit until he was sitting on his butt and pulled his own knees to his chest. Looking to Lars in answer just made him duck his head in shame. Connie was his friend, but he had no more idea than Steven what was going on.

“I’m sorry.” The apology dripped acidicly from her mouth, making both men flinch.

“For what? It’s not your fault that we unfused.” Steven’s voice was weak and insincere. He knew exactly why they had unfused.

And Connie confirmed it a moment later. “You know exactly why we unfused.”

Both of them looked away. Lars got up, shoved his hands in his pockets and edged away from them, worried that one false move would set off a volatile scene that Garnet would probably be able to hear. It didn’t though, and the complete lack of reaction concerned Lars even more. The tension hung thick in the air.

A long pause took place after, which had Lars fidgeting the whole time, trying to stay out of the way to avoid a blow up, but aware of Rose panicking next to him, pacing and silently screaming. He looked at his watch every minute for five minutes until he couldn’t stand it anymore. It was do or die. Time to see whether it was him or Sadie that was right about how his relationship with Steven would fare.

Awkwardly he made his way back to Steven and Connie and coughed to get their attention, rocking on the balls of his feet and darting his eyes between the two of them. “We’re… um… on a rapidly declining time limit here… so… uh… you should talk to each other.”

Steven smiled at him, immediately pleased for the encouraging opening. “We should, Connie. We tell each other everything, remember?”

Connie bristled. “Alright, I’m angry. Is that satisfactory communication for you, _Lars_?”

The wince Lars made did nothing to Connie, but the frown Steven shot her for how rude she spoke to him was what really set her off.

“I’m angry and I’m stupid and I’m sorry, okay!” Connie jumped to her feet, voice more powerful than Lars remembered. He wanted to run away but was rooted to the spot.

“You’re not stupid, Connie.” Steven jumped up too, hurt that she’d even suggest something like that. “I know you’re angry. So, so angry. That’s why we shot apart. At what?”

“At EVERYTHING! At you, at him,“ She pointed accusingly at Lars. “At myself! And especially at Rose!”

Connie stomped up to Lars. He tensed. Rose gripped his shirt so tightly he thought the fabric would tear. Disarmingly gently Connie placed both hands on Lars’ shoulders. Her fingers settled in the same place as Rose’s and a violent shiver she couldn’t stop travelled through her whole body. Instead of pulling away like everyone else had, she edged her fingers forward, smirking at figuring it out.

When she pushed Lars to the side with her fingers he obeyed, stumbling backwards into Steven, frozen as he watched.

“I’m so angry at you!” Connie took a swing at the air, and then another and another. The shivers became more violent, until her whole body was shaking. A tingling burst of electricity fizzled as Connie kept stepping forward to take up the same space as Rose even as she tried to step back and away. “You created a cycle of systematic self-sacrifice and miscommunication that could’ve cost Steven his life and definitely cost him his mental health.”

“What is she talking about?” Rose asked, anger replacing her fear. Lars shook his head and hands, just trying to stay out of firing range of Connie, who was still screaming and trying to strangle the very air around her.

It wasn’t until the electricity started to get painful that she stopped stepping in time with Rose. Her fists clenched until her knuckles ached at her side and she panted. Long streams of tears rolled down her face.

“I’m angry at you for everything! But that makes me angry at Steven for not being angry at you! And then I’m angry at myself, because how can I be angry at him? Especially for that! You’re his mother! I’m so confused and angry and sad!”

Connie whirled on Lars. “You did this! I’m mad at you too! Why do you get to see her? Steven should be the one to get that privilege, not you!”

“Connie, please don’t yell at him,” Steven begged gently but it fell on deaf ears.

“Oh, excuse me! Blame the messenger! Well, I’ve got news for you Connie, I didn’t want to be Rose’s secretary either! In fact I still don’t think she deserves to talk to Steven and I don’t want her to, but I’m trying to be a good fucking person here and give him a choice! I’ve been running around this whole stupid city since yesterday at noon trying my goddamn hardest to find Steven – and ruining a ton of relationships in the process might I add – and now I get here and you’re just going to yell at me! Fuck this! Fuck you! I’m done!”  

When Lars finished his screaming his whole face was darker pink, blood roiling hot. He turned to stomp away into the forest, but Connie grabbed and yanked him back by his arm.

“Lars, please. We can talk about this.” Steven tried to get between the two of them, and keep it from turning into a physical fight.

“Shut up, Steven!” Both Lars and Connie yelled in unison before turning to each other again, faces snubbing against each other.

“I said stop!” Steven howled, his voice joining the chorus of anger and pain. “Hurting each other isn’t going to get us anywhere!” But his words became lost in his tears, in the cruel jabs Lars and Connie were doling out in equal measure.

A great roar literally staggered the three of them to their knees, the raw power of it leaving them breathless immediately. Lion head-butted each of them. Hard. With a swish of his tail, and a flick of his chin to the sky he went back to sunning himself, pleased that his work was done.

Rose let out a long breath, thankful for Lion’s intervention. At least someone still listened to her. And then she watched. She wanted to see what her son would do.

The first one to sit up was Steven, then Connie, and finally, sluggishly, Lars. Steven held his arms open and Connie crawled into his hug immediately. Steven motioned for Lars to come too, but it wasn’t until Connie, after wiping uselessly at the trail of tears flowing down her face beckoned him as well that he scooted over and joined them.

The tension finally cleared from the area as they all cried messily together. Lars and Connie were dwarfed by Steven, practically buried in his embrace. “Fuck. I’m sorry, Connie. That was shitty of me. It’s been a really long day, but that’s not an excuse.” Lars faced her bravely, pulling out the hand that was squished in the hug and holding it out to Connie.

“No. I get it. I’m sorry too, Lars. It’s... a lot to take in. It must have been stressful for you.” Connie took his hand and shook it, pulling away with a lingering squeeze of his hand.

All of their faces were a mess, and none of them bothered trying to stop the tears still flowing. After a moment, Connie and Lars nodded to each other, and both turned to Steven. “I’m sorry, Steven,” they both said in a rush, words covering each other accidentally.

“I forgive you. Both of you.” Steven spoke with resounding gentleness. “Are we okay?”

“No, Steven.” Connie laughed bitterly.

“Not at all.” Lars agreed, laughing sadly too.

“What did you mean by ‘time limit’, Lars?” Steven deflected, trying to turn the subject away from the inevitable discussion about their confused, chaotic feelings for his mother.

The only thing that kept Lars from jumping a mile was Steven’s strong arm around him. Scrabbling for his watch, he checked to realize they still had a little more than an hour. For a fight that had felt so long, it sure hadn’t been. Vomiting out an explanation only took him five minutes, but it was a severely edited version of the events, though he told Steven he could tell him more later.

It was Connie that calmed both of their rising hysterics down. “Alright, Steven do you remember the finale of season eight of ‘Under The Knife?’”

“Yeah? Jefferey finally found out who his dad was, but he only had an hour to talk to him because he was dying.”

“Exactly. He did confront him about his abandonment, but the first thing he did was the first thing that came to his mind. So, Steven, what’s the first thing you’d want to ask your mom?”

Lars and Steven realized the metaphor Connie was crafting at the same time.

“I just wish I could see her the way Lars can,” Steven muttered out guiltily.

“Maybe you can.” Pulling himself to his feet, Lars held out his hand, a peace offering for Steven to take. “Fuse with me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S FINALLY HERE! The chapter we've all been waiting for! (Well the first of a few.) You guys have no idea how excited I am to post this chapter! I've been done it for it for awhile but I wanted to wait so as to not overly bombard people with updates to this story.
> 
> I know a lot of you asked about Connie, and now she's here! 
> 
> This chapter was a lot of fun to write, and it's what helped me push past the writer's block that kept last chapter from being posted for so long. Anyways, we're in the home stretch now! There's only one or two more chapters and then an epilogue! 
> 
> Thank you for reading, and leave a comment if you like.


	19. Let's Play Pretend We're Not Weary Old Men

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stars breaks apart and Steven breaks down.

Stars was built like a football player, tall and muscular. None of the shyness or worry about his body that Lars had ever seemed to translate over to Stars, who was confident about how he looked, but not much else. Unlike Connie and Steven’s perfect fusion of Stevonnie, who seemed like a better version of the two of them, Stars was anxious and nervous, seeming to amplify many of Steven and Lars’ insecurities rather than smooth them away.

The scar on Lars’ eye joined with the small almost imperceptible scars Steven had, so that one side of Stars’ whole face was covered with it. It stretched from his chin, cut through his eye, and then spiderwebbed out from his brow and across his forehead in long, squirming lines, and yet even this didn’t seem to degrade his handsomeness. His hair was pitch back at the roots of his mohawk and cascaded down one side of his face until it lightened orange, then pink and ended nearly blonde. The stretched lobes stayed, but both of their shoes didn’t, clattering to the ground before they did, the Steven part of the fusion causing bare feet. Stars was far from a perfect fusion. But when he opened his eyes none of that mattered.

Stars bawled. Long tracts of tears wound their way down his face and he did nothing to wipe them away, frozen from seeing. Rose stared at him, eyes wide and wild, hand raised in the perfect gesture of questioning confusion.

Stumbling to her, he reached for her hand, and nearly broke when his skin touched hers, cool and soft. Compared to everything else she seemed to have less contrast, looking like a washed out picture superimposed in the scene. Stars wondered if it was because he was only half Lars.

Pulling Rose by the hand he tugged her into a tight hug, collapsing to his knees and crying, squeezing her so tightly because he still wasn’t sure if it was real.

“You look ridiculous,” Stars choked out, laugh fond, sad and wet. He loosened his arms so that Rose could step back and look him properly in the eyes. She took in her own appearance, wiping lazily at her eyes.

“I suppose I do,” Rose laughed and smiled back at him. “But Aventurine’s powers aren’t perfect and Lars was the closest human to model off of, so here I am.”

And Stars just cried harder, because that voice could belong to no other except Rose Quartz. The part that was Steven had long ago memorized it, playing the videotape he had of her so much that it was completely worn down.

“I’m so happy I got to meet you. What’s your name?” And the kindness in her voice brought back more memories from Steven, which bounced and rattled angrily against the memories and opinions of Lars, turning Stars into a man in flux, never sure what he was or wanted.

“Stars.” He managed to choke out. “But I’m going away soon. I’m like Opal, Lars and Steven have to be really, really in sync to make me. And they don’t stay together very long. They’re very different people.”

“They must care about each other very much for you to be here, then, because I don’t believe Lars likes me enough for me to be the motivation he needs.” Rose took Stars’ wet and crying face into her hands, looking him deeply in the eyes.

“They do,” Stars admitted. “They both have a brother now.”

Rose sniffled. “I’m so proud of you, I’m glad to have met you, Stars. And I know I love you already, no matter what you think of me. Steven, Lars, be good to each other.” With that she placed a gentle, tiny kiss to Stars’ forehead and then he imploded.

Stars unfused violently, throwing Steven, who landed in a crouch, a couple feet away and Lars straight up to slam into the ground full force, his back smashing particularly hard. Fusion was noticably hard on his body, given that he wasn’t fully human. So, for the time being he stayed where he was lying, bare foot and spread eagle on the ground.

“Thank you.” Steven breathed out, and Lars knew it was for him, but his head was swimming too much to reply properly.

Everything hurt. The sun drilled through the center of his head causing a white hot pain behind his eyes, which he forced his arm up and over to cover. That offered a little relief, but even that simple act had him shaking. His muscles felt _crunchy_. And muscles were not supposed to feel that way, Lars knew. It took all that he had to bite back a pained whimper.

The air nearby changed ever so slightly, and Lars heard Steven and someone else sit down beside him. Which meant presumably that the other person was either Connie or Rose, but it was hard to tell.

“Lars? Are you okay?”

Lars had to bite back the deadpan, ‘Do I fucking look okay?’ and responded with a garbled noise that he tried to convey ambivalence with. It mostly worked.

Steven sighed. “This time was really painful, huh? I could feel how mad you were at Rose. You were fighting me the whole time.”

“Sorry,” Lars managed to choke out in shame, glad he couldn’t see Steven’s eyes.

“Don’t be,” Steven responded back quickly.

 _But I want to be,_ Lars didn’t say.

“Steven!” Connie scolded, and Lars heard what sounded like a light swat. It took longer than it should’ve to figure out why, his brain was running on molasses, but Steven had obviously been going to try to move him, or heal him and Connie had reminded him that said idea might not be the best without more information.

“Sorry!” Steven realized his make instantly and the change in his voice made it evident. “Where does it hurt Lars?”

“Everywhere,” He hissed painfully through his teeth, too tired to keep lying.

Within a moment Lars heard both of them get up. A part of him hoped they’d leave him there and take Rose too. It wouldn’t take more than thirty minutes to an hour to heal and the pain would distract him from everything else.

“This happens every time we fuse.” Steven’s voice slowly grew fainter as he and Connie walked somewhere. “I wish I knew why.” The resignation in Steven’s voice was just another reminder to Lars that he wasn’t like anyone else.

“I have a theory,” Connie suggested, and Lars strained to hear their hushed conversation. Any answer, no matter how painful, would be better than none. “It seems like Lars’ body is in a sort of stasis and wants to always return to equilibrium. That’s why he heals so fast when he gets hurt. But fusing interrupts that stasis and that’s why it causes him so much pain.”

The rest of Connie’s theory faded as her and Steven travelled out of earshot. Eventually, Lars knew he would be too curious to not seek Connie out and ask her what she meant, but for the moment he was content to wallow in his pain for a little longer.

It was not long until he heard both of them return. “I’m going to lift you up, okay Lars?” Connie’s voice was soft and low, and he felt her hands touch his shoulders with extreme caution. Then she lifted his paper-mache body up, supporting his shoulders so he was almost sitting. Steven grunted and Lars felt a thud behind him, and then Connie was carefully leaning him against a giant rock that Steven had gotten from _somewhere._ To soften it Connie put a folded up hoodie behind his head (she always came prepared with a change of clothes and extra layers) and then clicked her tongue, evidently pleased with her work.

“Move your arm for me, Lars.” Steven moved in to take her place and Lars let him, doing exactly as he was told. He moved his arm from his eyes and laid his hands in his lap for want of a better place to put them. He scowled as Steven washed the tear stains from his cheek with a saccharine smile, and then went to lay the cool clothe (Lars suspected it was a bandanna of Connie’s) over his face to block out the aching light.

Lars took that moment to brusquely push his hand away. Steven tried again and Lars batted at his hands like a cat, headless of the pain to himself. Again Steven tried and again, Lars batted him away.

“Stop it.”

“Stop what?”

“Acting like. Like you’re not feeling anything DAMNIT! You’re using me as an excuse to bottle up your emotions and not think about your problems because you just want to pretend everything is fine!” Every swing of his arms hurt, but Lars was on a roll and refused to stop.

“Lars.”

“You know I’m right, Connie.” Lars swiveled his head sharply to deliver that line to her, eyes diamond sharp and glittering. The only thing that worked on Steven when he got like that was blunt truthfulness. “First it was worrying about you, then it was Stars and now it’s fussing over me. It’s all just distraction after distraction as he represses it for our sake and his.”

The hard line of Connie’s mouth didn’t waver, but the look in her eyes did, flickering like fire-light as she considered what he was saying. He knew he was right. It wasn’t just himself that had fought against Steven in their fusion. Steven had fought back, pulling against Lars’ messy ugly emotions, and trying to pretend that half of his weren’t there.  

“It just hurts so much, Lars.” And then Steven was clutching his stomach again, trying to curl in on himself, tears renewed and hateful, streaming down his face and puddling at his feet.

After a deep cleansing breath, Lars pushed himself to his feet and then stumbled forward as his body roared in agony. He bit his tongue until he tasted blood to stop a scream, and let himself sink into a crouch by Steven. A hand to the man’s shoulder had him lifting his tear soaked face to meet his eyes. “It’s okay to be scared.” The fondness in Lars’ voice was masked by it cracking.

Then his legs gave out, and he was on his butt on the ground again, trying and failing to prop himself up with his hands, body still protesting and searing with pain. Connie half caught him under the arms, bending down to stop his traitorous body from completely folding over onto the ground. Her hands twitched where she held him, torn between wanting to help both of them, moved by Lars’ physical pain and Steven’s emotional crisis in equal measure. Lars managed a gesture with his hand to Steven, giving her the permission she needed to abandon him for her boyfriend. Half sliding, half crawling, Lars’ managed to make his way painfully back to the rock and sink gratefully against it, content to never move again if he didn’t have to.

“Lars!” Rose was panicking. A groan left Lars’ mouth before he could stop it. “What do you mean it’s okay to be scared? He’s scared? Of me?”

Anger, Rose could understand. Sadness, fury, indifference, rage, forgiveness and even happiness she had expected from her son. But fear? That was a blow that she hadn’t even known could be struck. Rose had seen fear, in the eyes of her own soldiers, and in the eyes of the opposition, Rose had tasted it, cold and sharp on her tongue, and Rose had lived it. For her son to feel it towards her was unfathomable.

It took Lars’ deadpan, “Down girl,” for her to realize that she had grabbed him by the collar of his shirt and yanked him to eye level, his body contorting painfully to hold himself up. Ever so gently she put him down, straightening his shirt for him and then crouched down beside him so they could be eye level. Steven sobbed and hiccupped all the while, oblivious to Lars’ distress – which he was grateful for –but Connie, wrapping him in a hug, had noticed, eyes flickering back and forth between Lars and Rose.

“He’s not scared _of_ you, Rose.” Connie growled out, guessing the conversation without ever having to hear it.  

That got Steven’s attention. “I’m scared _because_ of you.”

Connie nodded sagely, and Lars wondered if this was a conversation they’d had before.

When Steven swallowed, trying to catch his breath through his hysterics, Lars heard the lump in his throat. Connie was rubbing his back and whispering softly to him, so low Lars only caught ‘you’re going to hyperventilate’, before the rest of her words were swallowed by Steven’s tears.

The panicky feeling of time ceaselessly slipping past them tried to return and ensnare Lars with anxiety, but he pushed it away. And in only a few moments after Steven started calming down on his own anyways. His fingers clenched until white, scrabbling at his shirt, right where his belly button should’ve been. Anger was replacing his sadness. Rose, to her credit, noticed the way he wrapped his arms around himself.

“Mom,” Steven started, and then stuttered, swallowing past the lump in his throat again. He cleared it loudly. “Rose.”

Soundlessly, Rose got up, gliding past Lars as though to comfort her son. Her hand reached out… and flinched back away when she saw Connie taking his arm and bringing him closer to Lars, giving it an encouraging squeeze as she went. Steven didn’t need her anymore. With a huff, Rose let herself collapse onto the dirt beside Lars.

“I’m scared.” Steven started bravely (in Lars’ opinion, at least). “I’m scared because I don’t know how to feel about you, Rose.”

“I don't know how to feel about you.” Steven shouted it, as though he was trying to convince himself more than anyone else. “I love you, of course I do, you're my mom, but I don't know if I like you. Garnet and Pearl and Amethyst and Dad raised me. And how can I like someone who hurt all the people who raised me? Who love me. But how can I hate you, because of all the good things you did for them too?”

“I’m scared because sometimes I do hate you.” The dark look in Steven’s eyes when he said it chilled Lars, even through the still oppressive heat of the island. It hurt Rose too; she grabbed for his hand and squeezed until it hurt, begging for some kind of lifeline. “You were never there! You left me this mess to clean up.”

“I’m scared because…” Sharp, ragged gasps left Steven’s mouth, as though the very confession he was about to make was strangling him. “Sometimes I hate myself. I shattered Yellow Diamond. And everyone says I didn’t have a choice, but I did. I made the choice that saved the people I loved, but I still hate it!”

“I can’t figure out if I want to be you or not. I shattered a Diamond too. And maybe I can never escape your shadow, maybe it’s too big. I tried to be not you and that didn’t work, and I tried to be you and that was a worse disaster. I’ve only just stopped questioning the things that I do, questioning whether they make me like you or not. But now you’re back and it’s all happening again.”

“Sometimes I’m scared I’ll become you and make the gems sad and Lars hate me. And then he’ll sing and dance on a balcony in a fancy tux at Empire City about how much he wishes his pain could be over.”

“That’s… an oddly specific example.” Rose commented.

“Yes.” Lars kept his voice extremely low, not wanting to explain to Steven what his mother had just said.

“Pearl?”

“Also yes.”  

When Steven cast his teary eyes his way, Lars raised his voice, but tried to keep it soothing and gentle in the way he almost never did otherwise. “You don’t know that will happen, Steven.”

“You don’t know it won’t!” Anger bubbled in Steven’s throat, which, made Lars feel strangely relieved. At least Steven wasn't pretending to not be affected anymore.

“You’re going to have to watch everyone you love die, Lars. Because of me! And I’ll die too one day. And then you’ll be alone, just like the gems were when mom left. I’m scared I’ll make you care too much, so much that when I’m gone you won’t know how to live without me.”

Lars felt tears once again prick his own eyes. Being reminded of his immortality like that stung. But he wiped away his tears with the flats of his hands, and laughed darkly. “We’ll burn those bridges when we get to them, okay Steven? No use wondering about them now.”

Connie shot him a sharp, withering look. She hated when he used that saying, bastardizing what was typically supposed to be a hopeful phrase into something cynical and dark. That didn’t faze him though, because it made Steven laugh, just a little, and that was more important.

“Yeah, okay.” Steven agreed.

“Mostly though, I’m scared because you’re here. I want answers. The whole truth. Everything. But if I get what I want, will I still want it? I won’t be able to pretend anymore once I know the truth. And that’s the scariest part of all.”

After that final confession from Steven, silence descended upon the clearing, thick and heavy with meaning.

“Bullshit!” The simmering feelings in Lars’ gut spilled over in rage, a sudden baking-soda-and-vinegar reaction that had him popping to his feet again in an instant, the pain dulled to the point where it could be ignored in fits of adrenaline or rage. He steadied himself on the rock behind him, his knees only wobbling a little bit.

He had expected Steven or, more reluctantly, Connie to reprimand him for swearing, but none came and that was almost too strange for Lars to bear. With a few residual tremors of his limbs Lars made the short distance to Steven again in only a few seconds.

“Fucking bullshit.” He tried again.

“What?” Steven asked, hollow and confused.

“All of _this.”_ Lars spread his arms around the clearing with meaning. Kneeling in front of him Lars looked Steven hard in the eyes.

“Look, Steven. I don’t know what you want me to say to you here. I know how I feel about Rose… but when it comes to you, well I’m just as lost as you are. But maybe Connie knows.” Lars shot her a meaningful glance, Steven turning to see as well.

In reply, Connie only shook her head. “I don’t think my opinions are what you need to hear right now, Steven.”

Clenching his fists, Lars nodded once in acknowledgment of Connie, and faced Steven again. “Guess neither of us knows what to say. But that doesn’t matter! It’s okay to be scared, Steven. I’m not and Connie’s not, and both of us will take care of you, both of us will help you, both of us will be unafraid for you. Because Connie loves you. And you know, I do too.” Lars’ voice trailed off towards the end, and he felt his cheeks and ears grow warm, and was ever thankful it was nearly imperceptible through the pink of his skin.

A dazzling grin spread across Steven’s face, and he pull Lars in to a boisterous hug, laughing to Connie and inviting her to join. “Hey, Connie, Lars cares about me.”

“Don’t get a big head about it,” Lars quipped, sticking his tongue out. The fondness in his voice was impossible to deny however. With her own grin, Connie let out a small giggle, which made Lars laugh.

Before any of them realized what was happening they were all in hysterics, more to relieve tension that anything really being funny. Lars laughed until the pain came sharply back to his muscles, reminding him to wiggle out of the grasp of Steven, who was laughing so hard he was struggling to breath. The fit continued on, each one of them seeming to calm down and then helplessly breaking down again on seeing the faces of the others.

It wasn’t until Connie’s watch shrieked loudly that they stopped. And when they did it was abrupt and simultaneous. Flushing pink, Connie quickly turned it off, muttering apologies as she did so. “Sorry. I thought it would be a good idea to set an alarm for every quarter hour until noon.”

Lars cleared his throat, pushing himself up into a crossed-legged position, and looking around for Rose, whom he had forgotten about. “It is a good idea. We’ve got only…”

“Forty-five minutes left.” Connie finished for him.

Taking the lead, Lars straightened his back, and didn’t even flinch when he felt the cool touch of Rose’s hand on his shoulder. He simply filed it away. “Steven? Are you ready?”

A hard gulp followed that question and then a gross, long snort as Steven tried to keep his nose from running horribly. His eyes were still leaking tears, but slower, more gently than before. “Okay. Let’s do it. We can’t be Stars again, though.”

“I mean we could, for Steven's sake,” Lars tried to joke weakly.

Connie cut him off immediately with a scowl, taking his hand in both of her own. “You know we don’t do that martyring knight bullshit, Lars.” When Connie swore at him, Lars knew it was serious. He nodded down at her, feeling ashamed. “Neither of us like hearing you talk about yourself like that. Take care of yourself, Lars, please.”

“She’s right, Lars,” Steven reminded him, taking their pile of hands into his massive ones.

“Whatever.” Lars grumbled.

However, when Rose squealed in delight and hugged him he stopped complaining, and actually apologized for once. “I’m glad Steven stopped that knight stuff. It was never healthy, but no matter what I tried Pearl wouldn’t stop even when I asked her.”

The pain in Rose’s voice stabbed through Lars with guilt. Somehow, dimly, he knew he should’ve known that such comments and actions, as though his life and pain were worth less than Steven’s, caused pain to his friends and family. Hearing the deep, blunt pain from Rose, pain that he never wanted to hear from Steven for the same thing, had him truly reconsidering.

“I’m sorry. I’ll… try not to let it happen again. I’ll try to treat myself better. I still forget sometimes.”

“Thank you.” And then Steven released their hands from the pile and Connie did the same, all of them taking a deep breath to calm down. Steven spoke first.

“So, we can’t do Stars again, because that will hurt Lars too much. But I did have some questions, mom. Maybe we could start there?” Steven’s voice was sad, longing and hopeful.

“I’d like that,” Rose replied, taking a seat next to Lars.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry to all of you hoping for a lot more Stars than I gave you here. 
> 
> This chapter took two weeks to post because it's finals seasons where I live, and so while I'd like to get the next chapter out in a week, I can't promise anything. I am trying to finish this before Christmas though, so we'll see how that goes. 
> 
> This chapter was supposed to be all one chapter with the next one, but it's getting really long so I decided to split them up a bit. This is another chapter that changed a lot from inception to posting. 
> 
> The next chapter, the last chapter of the story proper, (besides the epilogue) will have more answers for Steven, I promise. I'll do my best to make it as epic and satisfying as possible, which is why I may not be able to stick to the 'finish it within a week' deadline. Thanks all for your patience. 
> 
> And finally, thanks for reading, and enjoying this! Leave a comment if you'd like!


	20. Love Like You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The last moment's of Rose's long and complex life.

"Why now?” Steven blurted out within seconds of them all getting comfortable. “Is there something special about this year? It was my twentieth birthday yesterday – “

Eyes wide, Lars froze completely. “Shit. I meant to call you or come by yesterday! But Rose and then – Aghh – and your present is with your dad.”

“I already forgive you, Lars,” Steven told him, easily and sincerely. “Besides we’re not having the party until later, remember?”

“Yeah. Thanks.” Lars smiled. Then he relayed the reply that Rose had innocently and easily uttered out during his interruption. “I met Greg when he was twenty. So it seemed like a good year. Humans are mostly full grown by then, right?”

“Right.” The disappointment on Steven’s face was severe.

“What’s wrong? Is twenty a bad year?” Suddenly Rose was doubting even the very age she’d decided to visit him at.

“No,” Steven started, drawing the syllables out. “It’s just…”

When Steven didn’t finish after trailing off Connie did it for him. “Such a simple reason. I guess it’s kind of disappointing that that’s the only reason you chose it.”

Nodding reluctantly, Steven averted his eyes from the air beside Lars, where he knew Rose was. Instead he took Connie’s hand and looked only at Lars. “Are you sure I don’t have a magical destiny? The only reason you’re here is just to see me? It wasn’t dangerous?"

“Well…” Rose fiddled with her hands awkwardly before explaining everything.

Unlike Garnet, Connie did not hesitate to facepalm at Rose’s story. “So what was your plan if you hadn’t have met Lars? Just hope to find us? And then do what?”

Rose just shrugged. A long groan eased through Lars lips and he joined Connie in facepalming before explaining through his fingers.

“You didn’t have a plan?” Connie shouted. “You led a successful civil war and you didn’t have a plan? Pearl talks about your strategies and plans all the time and you just… just…”

With a growl, Connie snatched Steven’s backpack and opened it forcefully. When she emerged it was with a bag of small pink balls, which Lars had dubbed “Connie’s Contraband Candy for Extreme Stress and Frustration”. This was candy that he was never allowed to mention to either of Connie’s parents, but especially her mom. He could understand why, having been at the Big Donut when the company representative had handed out free samples on the first day of selling the new candy, as he had revealed to him that it was approximately thirty layers of pure colored sugar.

It hadn’t taken but a word from Connie to have him promising not to tell on her, even though he wouldn’t have anyways. Steven had been more difficult, concerned himself about the candy, considering even he thought it was too sweet and sugary. But Connie had proved to be responsible even in her rebellions. In the two years since she had bought the bag of twenty odd Sugar Shock Sugar Frosted Sugar Balls, she had only gone through ten.

After angrily selecting one and putting it her mouth, cheek bulging slightly from the size, Connie held the bag out to him. Lars just shook his head. They tasted like chemicals and were probably stale after so long. Though he knew Connie wasn’t doing it for the taste. Without a pen to chew on and not wanting to bite her nails, Connie had nothing to distract her mouth from screaming out her frustrations. And the act of choosing one tiny little rebellion in the part of life she otherwise tried to keep neat and tidy did a lot to allay said frustration.  

Eventually Steven turned back to Rose, eyes shining and doing that thing that freaked Lars out where they looked like stars. “So, you traded some memories, but you didn’t do the tape right? You had enough other ones that you didn’t have to do that one, right?”

If Rose hadn’t have been a ghost her heart would’ve stopped. As it was, Lars’ felt like his dropped to his stomach and stuck in his throat simultaneously. He didn’t know what was on the tape in question, but the very thought made him break out in a cold sweat. It had been the catalyst to Greg lashing out at him. And he had seen glimpses of it from Steven when they were fused, snatches of voice, but mostly an overwhelming feeling of warmth, security and goodness, all the feelings Steven projected onto it. Though, deeper, there had been anger in that memory too.

“Please know that it hurt immensely to trade so much for just a chance. But I can’t regret my decision, Steven. I’m here, right now, doing more than just the watching I thought I would when I made the deal. This was worth it.”

When Steven started crying, she tried to do damage control. “Oh, sweetie, just because I’ve forgotten it, doesn’t make what I said in it any less sincere.”

“It’s one of the only things I have of _you._ Everything I know about you is filtered through dad or the gems. And knowing the context of that music video you made makes that one hard to watch. That tape, where you said I could be whatever I chose was all I had. I guess I should just be happy that you considered that memory precious enough that it was tradeable.”

“I didn’t think I would be here to talk to you about it when I made that decision.” Rose snapped out bitterly, angry at herself more than anyone.

It made him uncomfortable, but Lars repeated it. In that same breath Rose regretted saying it immediately, but it was too late to stop Lars and take it back.

A deep, satisfying _crunch_ followed and then a thick, gloopy swallow as Connie forced herself to finish the candy she was chewing on as fast as possible. Like a flame, she rose, burning brightly.

“You know what your problem is Rose? You’re selfish.”

There was a long silence as Rose processed this.

“You’re absolutely correct, Connie.” There was no pride in her voice when she said it.

This made Connie falter, mouth parted and body wound up to yell at Rose. “So you have learned something then today?”

“I’ve learned that there are right and wrong ways to be selfish. And… that being sorry for something isn’t always enough.”

“That’s just vague pandering to get me off your back,” Connie snorted. “I want specifics!”

“Does Steven have a magical destiny?”

“No.”

“Is he special?”

“He is to me.”

There was growl of frustration from Connie. “How could you just die? I don’t understand. My parents wanted me, they wanted to raise me, they wanted all the good and bad things and they wanted to be alive to do them. The day I was born my dad quit smoking, because he wanted to live as long as possible to see me grow up. I just… don’t understand.”

“That’s why I’m here, now. But I know I should’ve been here sooner. I should’ve been here for his whole life.”

“Yeah, it would’ve been nice.” Steven interrupted with one of the first notes of real resentment Lars had heard from him.   

Why do you get to be here and learning about Steven when you’ve offered so little in exchange to him? Children want to know their parents.”

“What’s left to tell about me that matters? Steven has the tape, and everyone who knew me. I’d say I’m at a disadvantage in the knowledge department. I’m dead."

“So, let’s see if I have this right, you came here with no plan, on a selfish whim and turned everyone’s lives upside down without any recourse for an actual apology or growth because you’re going back to die in less than an hour? And I’m just supposed to say yes and be okay with it because you’re ‘Rose Quartz’ and you can do whatever you want?”

“Fuck me,” Connie groaned out, rubbing the bridge of her nose the way she’d seen her mom do. It was the only answer she had to her own rhetorical question.

“I just wanted to see him.” Rose repeated.

“Then maybe you shouldn’t have died!”

Underneath the repentant look Rose gave off, was pride that there were still humans who dared to talk to her like she wasn’t a near immortal war hero. “I can’t change that I’m here, Connie. And I am genuinely sorry for the pain I have caused you. For the pain I have caused everyone. I just want to know everything about him.”

Connie spluttered. Steven didn’t. The watch screamed the quarter hour and Steven jolted from his stupor, suddenly and perfectly ready to change course

“I forgive you, mom.” The words were delivered with neither a bang, nor a whimper, but with aching warmth.  

“What.”

“What!”

“What?”

There was a wise look beyond his years in Steven’s eyes as he took in Lars and Connie, and the spot where he knew his mother was, knowing what she had said without ever having to have heard it.

“Steven.” Connie whined.

“I forgive you, too, Connie.” Steven said it with a smile on his face, so sincerely that Lars felt his heart twang hard in his chest. “And you Lars.”

Both Lars and Connie immediately flushed deeply. “Why?”

“It’s okay if you hate her now, or later if you never like her. I never want to tell you two how to feel or make you feel something that you don’t. Heck, I might hate her later too, even while loving her. It’s like a big stupid riddle. But… For now… I just can’t let anyone die alone. I can’t let her die alone. No one deserves that. After everything, after apologizing… I can’t. Can’t let her leave without something.” Steven barely made it through his first sentence without choking up, and was openly crying again by the end of it.

Lars had felt his frown grow and change into something reluctant and quietly happy. It was just so Steven to forgive his mother and love her so fully that he would give her a gift before she left. It left a bittersweet ache in his chest and he wondered, not for the first time, if he would ever be able to give and receive that much love.

“Okay, Steven. I’ll do this for you.” The conviction in Connie’s voice was clear and ringing, and the way Steven so clearly drew strength from someone that loved him so much was both sickening and endearing to Lars.

“Come stand with us, Lars,” Steven welcomed him easily with a hand outstretched, ready to pull him from where he was standing next to Rose to by his side. Without understanding, Lars did as he was told, standing on Steven’s other side and facing Rose Quartz, eyes glassy and unseeing.

“Don’t you need me to…?”

“Nah. I’ll be doing most of the talking. You’ll take a break now.” At Steven’s words, the weight that had descended upon his shoulders and the coil in his belly that had formed the moment he met Rose both loosened and he finally felt free of that burden. If only for a little while.

“Since I know you can hear me mom, I’ll just start. I’m going to give you what I can before you have to go. You said you wanted to know everything about me, so that’s what you’ll get: me.”

“My name is Steven Universe and I’m twenty years old. I have one dad who’s amazing, who raised me, who is always there for me, and four moms, the one who gave birth to me, and the three who raised me. They’re all amazing for different reasons. Amethyst taught me how to love myself, Garnet taught me to love others, Pearl taught me that everyone I love, even myself, is broken somewhere, but that doesn’t make them bad or unworthy. It makes them strong when they push past their broken parts. And dad brought it all together. He taught me how to be a human, a person and let me make choices and screw up.”

There was a long pause and then “I think I’m telling you this because that’s the only me that I know. Is the me that other people have made. I still don’t know who I am mom, so I can only give you the me that’s grown from the most important people in my life. And there’s still so many more I have to tell you about, so many important people. Sometimes I don’t really feel like I had choices at all. Did I fail you? You wanted me to have the ability to grow and change, and to be human, but sometimes I don’t feel human, I just feel like a mirror or a garden for everyone else. Have I grown and changed enough? Or have I just blossomed the seeds of regret and disappointment in everyone else, you included. Maybe I should quit before we get to the bad stuff.”

“Oh Steven. Son.” Rose choked out. “I’ve loved you so much then, and I love you so much now. Always. You’ll always be my son. I said I wanted to know everything about you and I do. Including the bad things, because they’re your bad things. If getting to know you means I have to do it through the people you love, like Connie and Lars, then that’s okay. Lars has already told me so much anyways.”

It took several attempts for Lars to repeat the whole message, blushing and suffocated with emotion. When he got to the end, talking about himself, he was looking at his feet, but suddenly wrenched his head back up proudly. He refused to be ashamed at how he had acted towards Rose. Steven was more important than her. And yet that didn’t stop him from feeling embarrassed about how much he had told her after all.

Steven was too overwhelmed to speak. The soft trickle of his tears turned into a deluge again, hard and sad and unashamed.

While Steven cried, Connie took from him the mantle and held it high. “I’m Connie Maheswaran. I’m eighteen and a half years old and Steven’s girlfriend. Before I met him I didn’t have a lot of friends. I moved around a lot. I was lonely. And then this goofy boy on his bike tried to impress me, and saved my life with a bubble that he made. He let me into his life and his family, full of crazy, wonderful humans and aliens.”

“I stood up to my mom because of him, and helped her be less overprotective. I learned to be a knight from Pearl, and then unlearned it, so we could fight as equals. We’ve had our fights, especially when Steven left me behind to sacrifice himself to the Diamonds in your name.”

“He did what?” Rose screeched at Lars.

“Don’t interrupt, Rose,” Lars snarked, wiping at his sudden tears and pulling at whatever anger he had left in him to make him strong. It had been Rose’s fault that all of it had happened anyways.

“But even though Steven can be naïve, and too kind and too wonderful for his own good, and bottles up his emotions and waffles on decisions because he tries to please everyone and so pleases no one, he’s still a better person than you Rose. And he always will be.”

The particular kind of anger Connie was currently putting in her voice always impressed Lars. It wasn’t explosive and emotional like Ruby’s, and it wasn’t patient and deep like Garnet’s. There wasn’t a single tinge of guilt to it either, like Steven’s anger. It was pointed, sharp and deadly, and Connie could control it, flipping the switch depending on whom she was talking to.

“I confess that I’ve learned you are right, young Connie.” It wasn’t a real apology, but Lars tried to convey the resignation and regret he’d heard in Rose’s voice as accurately as possible, trying to be truthful and tactful in equal measure.

The answer did little to placate Connie, whose anger had spiked again, beyond pointed control and into rage. Lars could hardly blame her, as only a few hours ago he had felt the same. The only difference between them was that he had run out of rage to spend on Rose.

By then even Connie was too overwhelmed to speak, so Lars took his turn in stride, smiling small and careful at Rose, sobbing with every emotion she had. “I used to be such an ass to Steven – ” When Steven tried to shake his head, Lars held a hand up. “I was, Steven. But that never turned him away. Steven is the kindest man I’ve ever known and I am honored to call your son my best friend, Rose. He forgave me endlessly, always had another second chance for me and changed me so profoundly. When we did go into space Steven finally made me see what I was and why I was running away. He told me the same thing I told him about you.”

“It’s okay to be scared.” Rose repeated. “Sound advice.”

“He can be quite wise, sometimes.” 

“It certainly sounds like it.”

“I hope you know how highly I think of him, even after everything I’ve told you today. He needs protecting sometimes, from people that aren’t like me and don’t deserve second chances, but somehow I think that makes him an even better person. You already know how much better I think he is than you.”

“Please don’t cry, Lars. Sarcasm suits you so much better.” With a sardonic chuckle Rose wiped his pitiful tears and then brushed aside her own.

After Lars’ emotional outburst was finished, the three began talking in earnest, all on stories about Steven. It took Connie a second to put away her anger, to turn off her rage again for another day, but she did it because that’s what Steven wanted, to gift himself to his mother, and she couldn’t help if she was angry. Between the three of them they summed up much of Steven’s life, good and bad while Lars’ inhibitions melted and sparks grew in their place. It felt like being a little kid again, wild and exciting, where the biggest problems were what kind of cookies they were going to sneak for snack. Lars let his hands move as he spoke, laughing freely and easily, emotions unfettered from the others. Through it all, Rose smiled, even at the in-jokes between the three of them that she didn’t quite understand. Occasionally, Lars would glance at her, and his heart would trip hammer, full and bursting with emotion. The smile on his face was delirious and contagious and he’d laugh and laugh at her confused expression. Because wasn’t this what she had wanted? To know everything about her son, from him and the people that loved and knew him best? It was only too bad that Greg and the gems weren’t there to tell embarrassing stories about a young Steven, stories too blurry in the man’s mind to fully tell himself.

On and on the stories went, Steven somehow remaining humble even through the stories Lars and Connie embellished about all the ways that he was kind and good and helped people. If anyone got off topic the others would steer them back to Steven. Eventually it changed to the mundane, like what kind of chips he liked, or the books he read, but even that was exciting in the telling to someone who knew nothing about Steven. The smile on Rose’s face through all the telling made Lars certain that giving Steven the choice to see Rose had been correct, after all.

One by one, their voices faded out. They hadn’t run out of things to say, because decades worth of life would take much longer than that to convey, but the direction to go next was unknown by any of them. What was most important to share before Rose disappeared forever? The three of them looked awkwardly between each other, until Steven snapped his fingers with a smile and turned on his heel for Lion.

The pregnant pause dissipated and Lars felt relieved that someone had made a decision. He curled his toes and realized, belatedly, that he hadn’t put his shoes back on yet. Brown dirt caked the soles of his feet, between his toes, and the hem of his pants. Everything suddenly felt itchy and Lars remembered how long it had been since he was last home, and that he hadn’t changed his clothes in quite a while, not since the morning before he met Rose. A hot shower was the first thing on Lars’ to-do list when all of this was over.

It was muscle memory that led Lars the short distance to his shoes, where he bent down to tug them on and retie them. He almost tore the lace in his hands when Steven started singing.

“Isn’t this such, a beautiful day, wo-oh…” When Lars nearly snapped his neck doing a double take he saw Steven with the guitar Greg had gotten him – it fit much better in his hands, though he still loved the ukulele as an instrument – strumming and singing. The song was familiar, but it took him a moment to place it, and Steven was already into the next verse before he did.

“Steven,” he groaned out playfully.

Steven smirked, and strummed the same chord a few times. “I want her to know how much I love music, Lars. You could sing with us?”

“This stupid song?” He joked.

“Yep.” And then Steven jumped right back into, “Why don’t you just let yourself be wherever you are.”

“Please, Lars?” Steven asked again after that line, Lars standing again, unsure what to do with himself.

“Yeah, please Lars?” Connie added.

Lars groaned.

“Look at this place…” Steven rang out.

“Look at your faces,” Connie sang, gazing between Lars and Steven.

Finally, Lars shrugged, knowing he wouldn’t win the battle and added his voice to theirs. “I’ve never seen you look like this before.”

While Steven’s voice was low and deep, Connie’s was higher and melodic and Lars thought his fell somewhere in the middle, rough and scratchy from lack of practice, because he didn’t live with the most musical family in existence the way Steven did.

But as he sang he remembered. Music was breathing for Steven, the way cooking was for him. He couldn’t not sing or dance. He’d die. It made sense that Steven would want to share something so important with his mother.

Lars pondered the lyrics as he sang them, remembering what they had meant then, so long ago on that island that had ended up driving a wedge between him and Sadie for too long, instead of doing the opposite, and what it meant at that moment, in the clearing, with Steven, Connie and Rose Quartz. Truly, he hadn’t seen Steven look like that before – like a man who knew what he was doing and who he was. A man truly at peace with himself and the world.

It was wonderful and Lars’ voice swelled along with the music, growing steady and confident as he saw only genuine smiles from Connie and Steven. No one mocked him, like his anxiety tried to convince him would happen every time he put himself out there or did something new.

The song ended wobbly, and warbling, but Steven pushed through and started it again because it was so short. This time Rose joined them, voice thick with emotion, and Lars was immediately jealous at how easily she picked up the song.

“Why don’t you just let yourself be whoever you are?” The last notes were sung by Lars alone. When he realized that the others had tapered off and had heard the question and the plea in his voice, the words took on a new meaning, and Lars felt his face boil in a blush, but didn’t look away.

Steven hesitantly chuckled, and then clapped his arm around Lars, guitar jostling to the side. “I don’t know how to answer and I think I’m finally realizing how difficult that question must’ve been for you, way back then.”

“I did need to hear it though. Even if it took way too long and too many tries to get through to me.” Lars mumbled.

“You were seventeen, Lars.”

“And you were fourteen.”

“And naively thought that someone your age had all the answers in the world and that if you could just see what I saw it would all click.” There was no guilt anymore in Steven’s voice because he had forgiven and been forgiven in turn by Lars, but instead an odd mixture of acceptance and sadness.

“It would be nice to be that young again.” It had been so easy being seventeen, Lars realized, though he hadn’t known it at the time. “But,” Lars snapped his fingers, and ducked out from under Steven’s arm. “We’re older now, and things aren’t simple anymore.”

Connie smiled bitterly at them, all too aware of that fact. Going to university would be such a mundane adventure compared to the weirdness, the wonder, the horror and the death through all of the years she had known Steven. It wouldn’t be easy just relating to people anymore. Connie wondered if she was becoming as alien as the gems. At least she had Lars to talk to about it, she knew. Being pink and trying to live a ‘normal’ life wasn’t easy, either.

“Hey!” A chuckle forced its way past Lars’ lips. “Let’s not get all sad and shit. We’ll have time for all that later. You wanted to show your mother your songs right?”

Steven nodded quickly, spinning the guitar back into his hands.

“How about that dumb pop song? You remember…”

“Beachapolooza.” With a nod and a slowly blossoming smile Steven strummed a chord dramatically, immediately perking up at playing music, looking exactly like a rock star.

Rose let herself cry, heart sticking to her throat and wandered slowly next to Lars, both their moods subdued. The bubble would burst soon, Lars knew. And then there would be the Consequences. In just twenty four short hours, Lars had taken all their lives and flipped them over. It would take time, and talking and maybe screaming and crying (and lots of singing, if he was honest) before they were all better. A wound, long thought healed, had been reopened. Lars vowed not to let it fester.

“He looks like his father.” Rose had a hand on her heart and looked like she was about to burst with emotion.

“I’ll take your word for it,” Lars joked, but he could see it. Steven, lit up by the stage, surrounded by screaming, adoring fans, that look of perfect bliss in his smile, and the stars in his eyes as he played his music to make them happy.

For the remainder of the song, Lars shoved his hands in his pockets, content to watch with Rose beside him. When the last notes faded from the final ‘now everyone can see me burning’, Lars clapped, Connie and Rose joining him after only a beat.

Then Steven smiled devilishly. How Lars wished he could see that smile more often. The trouble he and Steven got into when he wore it was legendary. He put his guitar away swiftly into Lion, raced back, yanked out his phone, and then blasted from it the first song he’d recorded, grainy and imperfect, but absolutely joyful.

Before she really knew what was happening, Steven was bowing to Connie and then they locked hands, and danced together, jumping and spinning and flailing. Lars waved at them, but the most he contributed to dancing was to tap his foot, wiggle his hips occasionally, or pump one hand up and down.

“Ahh!” Rose shrieked in veritable joy, joining the dancing while Lars watched. It was obvious every time her hands briefly met Steven’s or Connie’s in the wild, spinning dance, both of them jumping each time from the tingle that happened when she touched them. But after they jumped they’d laugh each time. And so the clearing filled with a temporary joy.

It burst when a tiny blonde girl ran into the clearing, smacking hard into Lars’ legs and startling him so severely he almost fell over. The girl screamed. Lars screamed. They both screamed.

“Who the fuck are you?” Aventurine asked when they’d both calmed down and were eyeing each other curiously.

“Aventurine!” Rose scolded with a whine.

“My apologies.” Aventurine cleared her throat, and then stuck out her small hand to Lars. “I am Aventurine. Whomst the fuck are you?”

With a delighted laugh, Lars sank to his haunches so he could be at eye level with the little girl, and shook her hand firmly. “I’m Lars Barriga, you little brat.”

The blonde hair and slightly nasally voice reminded Lars of Peridot. The similarities ended there though. Whereas Peridot was silly and caused offence only because of ignorance, Aventurine seemed serious and vaguely threatening, with ancient eyes that reflected the sky, and Lars’ very self back to him perfectly. 

Then she laughed back, revealing her buck teeth which had Lars grinning in a moment. So maybe she was a little adorable, but that still didn’t mean he could trust her, Lars had to remind himself.

Aventurine side eyed him curiously, glancing between Rose and Steven and Connie, who had all stopped to stare at the interaction between her and Lars. When Lars tried to get up Aventurine stopped him with a hand on his arm.

“Why can you see me? They can’t.” Aventurine pointed hard at Steven and Connie, annoyed and perplexed. “They’re looking right through me. Like they’re supposed to. But you break the rules.”

When Aventurine carefully took Lars’ large hand in her small ones, he understood: she was afraid. Her whole life things had been one way and then suddenly there he was and he Did-Not-Belong. He was a jarring dysfunction in her reality.

“Honestly, I wish I knew. Rose doesn’t, and I suspect you don’t have the answers either.” There was only sad acceptance in Lars’ voice when he explained it to her.

“Yes, I do!” Aventurine shouted, flinching back as though branded. “I just don’t feel like telling you.”

Catching Rose’s eyes Lars nodded very faintly as he stood up, and they sealed a silent deal to let Aventurine have her wounded pride and pretend she was telling the truth. It would be their final gift to her.

“Well anyways,” Aventurine turned on her heels, clicking her feet together and snapped her fingers at Rose. “We’ve got less than five minutes Rosey, so get your rear in gear and finish up with…” Aventurine squinted at Steven and Connie. “Your son? And this girl.”

“Steven and Connie. My son and his girlfriend.” Rose tittered as she explained.

“Ah, you did get to meet him after all. Good. Guess you can go without any regrets.”

“You have no idea the regrets I carry, Aventurine.”

Aventurine shuddered at that, feeling cowed for the first time since Rose had dug her up in the desert, the ice in her voice chilling and direct.

“Sorry. Please hurry though. I already gave you a few extra minutes at the start, and I won’t be able to do more than a minute or two more after noon today. As much as I want to… I just… I. My powers are waning.” Aventurine’s eyes darkened to two black pools and she swayed on her feet, before shaking it off and slowly making her way to stand beside Rose.

“Of course, darling.” Rose reassured the small girl, laying a supportive hand on her shoulder.

An ice-pick of panic had Lars’ brain screaming into overdrive. The world narrowed to small pinpricks and static buzzed at the edges. He had totally zoned out of all Connie’s alarms going off! _Okay,_ Lars thought to himself, _I’m panicking._ That thought cleared his vision somewhat and he let the panic happen, breathing through it until it was manageable and then transforming it into action.

“Steven!” he shouted. Everyone’s head’s snapped up to look at him. “It’s almost time.”

Blearily Steven managed a nod, struck numb by Aventurine’s arrival, and Connie was much in the same boat. Rose was too sad to do anything and Aventurine seemed like she was barely managing to hold the fabric of her very being together. It was all too suddenly real that Rose was going to disappear again forever.

“We’ve got time for one last song and dance, Steven. So don’t pick something dumb I guess.” The sarcasm was half-hearted at best from Lars.

The song wasn’t great for dancing to, but Lars couldn’t think of any better choice as the lyrics soared soft and lovely into the clearing from Steven’s mediocre phone speakers. “ _If I could begin to be…”_

Stepping forward, Steven planted his feet, and held his arms and hands open. Rose stepped into them, and knew she made contact when Steven flinched at the electricity. His hands ended up on her shoulders, but that didn’t seem to matter as he moved into the first step of the Box Step. It was slow and awkward at first, but within moments they’d gotten the hang of it and were turning together in sync, Steven’s hands crackling where they met with Rose. It looked a little ridiculous to Lars, but the shy smile on Steven’s face told him all he needed to know.

“Y’know,” Steven began talking for something to do as the silence was too heavy. “Dad taught me to do this. Well he taught me the steps, but he wasn’t good at not being the lead. Pearl was even worse though! I wanted to learn for Connie’s graduation. Eventually I just let Connie lead, she’s much better at it than me. And it’s kind of fun being the one dipped!”

“I suppose this is a new challenge then,” Rose replied, also just to fill the silence. Neither of them expected Lars to translate.

He was too busy trying to watch them dance and study Aventurine at the same time. “Dancing is nice,” she eventually uttered.

“Huh?”

“Dancing. I’ve watched humans for millennia unending. Watched their selfish ugly selves cause pain to the people they love even more than the people they hate. I have watched some of you too today and it seems like that’s what Rose did. But humans dance. And it’s nice.” Aventurine pointed to Rose and Steven as she said it, spinning faster then.

“It is. Do you dance?” In that moment Lars’ attention was fully on the little girl beside him.

“No. Only pearls danced on Homeworld. And on Earth… The wars always lasted longer than the dancing. I’ve tried that before. Whispering into ears and changing the outcomes of battles. But never dancing.”

“Would you like to?”

“I’m not very good,” Aventurine admitted in a rare moment of modesty, brought on perhaps by her impending death.

“Neither am I.” Lars dismissed her concerns with a flick of his hands. “But I don’t think anyone else here will care.”

“Alright, then. Dance human!” Aventurine shouted, her pride returning.

The little girl was alarmingly light as Lars took her hands in his own and placed her feet on top of his, the way his own mother had done when he was four. He hadn’t improved any in the rest of his whole life, but that hardly seemed to matter at that moment.

As he stared at his own feet, Lars counted the steps until he had the rhythm again, though it was clumsy and blocky. “See it’s easy. You just make a square with your feet.”

“You’re really bad at something so easy.”

“I would respond to that but you don’t deserve to get absolutely destroyed when you’re about to die.”

Their waltz dissolved with their laughter, as they spun towards Steven and Rose, Connie smiling at them from the side. Fed up with leaning down, Lars released Aventurine from his grip, who was all too eager to remove her feet from his and dance on her own, movements jerky and imprecise.

Lars spun himself away and to Connie’s side, barely stifling his laughter at the girl’s dancing. Connie scolded him silently but earnestly and he stopped immediately, remembering what it was like to be laughed at and ashamed that he had forgotten so quickly.

His guilt was short lived because the song was about to end and Rose looked full to burst with things to say. As the last notes faded Steven stepped back and bowed to his mother who looked suddenly and oddly translucent as she reciprocated.

“Sorry.” Aventurine hissed out.

Looking down at the girl revealed that she was becoming just as translucent as Rose, finally becoming ghosts even to Lars. “I can’t –” her face contorted with pain, and she swayed where she stood. “No. More. Can’t… do much longer. It’s already noon.” Then, suddenly the pain passed and Aventurine straightened, but there was a vein on her forehead that Lars could see throbbing even from a distance.  

Steven seemed to sense what was happening and collapsed to his knees like his father had earlier, grasping around the air to hug Rose as well as he could. In his mind he pictured her thick curls, imagined what her arms might feel like, sparks traveling his back and neck as she reciprocated the hug, and remembered her voice, vibrant and kind, telling him how much she loved him.

“I love you.”

“I love you too, so much. So, so much.”

“I wish we didn’t have to say goodbye. We just said hello.”

“I know. I know.” Rose tried to sooth him, hoped that he could feel all the love and comfort she wanted to pass on to him. Tears cascaded down both their cheeks freely and without restraint.  

“I wish we didn’t have to say goodbye because I’m not finished yelling at you.” Stepping around Lars – who was parroting Rose with glaze-eyed concentration – Connie sank to her knees beside Steven, spent of tears. The circle widened for her and she crushed was between Steven and the tingle of Rose, anger burning hotly in her, burning through all the rest of her emotions.  

“Oh my fiery daughter-in-law,” Rose tried to smooth the frazzled hair back from Connie’s face. “I would let you yell at me for the next hundred years if it meant I could stay.”

Backing up to the furthest reach of Steven’s long arms, Connie enveloped in them, pressed against his chest and partly under his arm, Rose took in their faces, still growing translucent. On Connie’s there was a burning blush from the daughter-in-law comment, which Steven grinned punch drunk at. They were quite the pair.

“I love you, Connie.” A finger tried to brush away Connie’s tears, but as usual did not nothing but jolt against Connie’s skin. She did not flinch.

“I don’t think I can ever love you back, Rose.” Tightly, Connie grabbed at Rose’s arm, snapping her fist closed around the air.

“I can love enough for both of us. I love you, I love you, I love you. Please tell them I said that. And that I’m sorry.”

“Who?” Connie and Steven echoed together.

“Greg and the Gems. I know there’s still so much to say to them. So much I can never atone for. But there isn’t time for me. But maybe for you. Maybe you can find the words.

“I’ll try mom.” Steven reached blindly for his mother’s hand to make that promise, while Connie promised nothing.

“Thank you. I know I didn’t offer you much of myself but I met you from the people that loved you Steven. You can do the same for me. I know it may be difficult or take time to unlock these stories from the others but you can do it. You have the time I do not.”

And then Rose turned to Lars, still repeating what she was saying. “And thank you.”

It took a moment to clear his head, to stop immediately repeating Rose. She pulled him, somewhat unwillingly into her arms and hugged him so tightly. “Thank you, thank you for these twenty-four hours. Thank you for bringing me to Steven. Thank you for letting him choose. You’re a great man, Lars. And so is he. Take care of each other.”

Lars nodded, choked with emotion. A tug on his pant leg had him looking down at Aventurine.

“Thanks for dancing with me, human.”

Before she could protest, Lars swooped down and forced a hug on the little girl, which Rose joined again. When they parted both Rose and Aventurine kept a hold of his hands. They were both so thin and fragile feeling in Lars grip, and it was obvious that Aventurine was about to lose the battle with their corporeality.

“I’m scared to die.” Aventurine admitted in a panicked rush. “But I still want to do it! I don’t think this decision was a bad one.”

“Then you know it’s worth doing.” Rose offered that last little comfort she could, squeezing Aventurine’s hand. Lars squeezed it as well. Then, freeing one from their grip, he took reached for Connie and Steven. They joined him, sandwiching their hands with his again, both able to feel the jolts of Rose and Aventurine.

The last words spoken in that clearing for a long time were from Steven. “I love you, I miss you, I love you.”

And so with Steven’s words playing through her mind, Rose accepted whatever came next, and closed her eyes for the last time. Lars watched her and Aventurine slowly fade out of existence, becoming lighter and lighter against the background of the world until they had almost disappeared, Steven still chanting the words to them. With a final smile from Aventurine they both disappeared completely from existence.

The words from Steven stopped only moments after, and he tore his hands from the pile to stare at them, the last tingle of the electricity that was Rose fading forever. Connie climbed into his arms. Silence reigned, heavy and oppressive over the clearing, only the soft chuffing of Lions’ sleepy breathing any indication of life left anywhere. Lars counted slowly to ten in his head, and again. They didn’t return.  

Then he collapsed to the ground, screaming and crying. It felt like a piece had been ripped away. He hadn’t really liked Rose, but her passing was still like glass shards twisting in his heart. The clearing was rent with his sobs, as he raged against Time and Death themselves.

It wasn’t long before Steven and Connie joined him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is it! It's the end. There is, mind you an epilogue to this story, but it's fairly short. It's already completed and I'm planning on posting it within a couple days or so, but I don't want to bombard people with updates. 
> 
> This chapter took two weeks because of finishing tests (I did great!) and going home for the holidays, (Air Canada is a trash can airline and I hate it), but I finally got settled and was able to finish this chapter. It's been a ride. 
> 
> This chapter feels both very long and very short. It feels like there's so much more to say, but that's part of the story, and yet it feels like I've already said so much! I also didn't want to split it up either, and so I think it clocks in as the longest chapter of the story. 
> 
> It feels so strange to be definitively done. I hope my ending has done this story justice. 
> 
> Anyways thanks for reading, hope you have a good holiday no matter what you're celebrating this year, and leave a comment if you like.


	21. Epilogue: It Comes Around

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> What began with Rose and Aventurine, ends with Lars and Steven.

It was chilly at midnight being so high up and close to the sea, but Lars found he didn’t care. The cold in his chest, while unwelcome, reminded him that he was awake and alive and the last thirty-six hours were no hazy dream. The cool metal of the washing machine felt wonderful against the back of Lars’ head, hot with confusion and worry. The rest of him was fairly comfortable though, bundled up in a light sweater and fresh clothes. He had gone home and eaten a little with his parents, taken the hottest shower he could handle and then left, exhausted but unable to sleep, lonely, but not desiring company.

The hand of the Temple where Steven’s laundry was done was truly a paradise. It was one of the few warps that could only be accessed from within the Temple, and since everyone there already knew where he was he knew there would be no one coming for him. It was truly a bastion of loneliness.

Until it wasn’t. The warp sounded and Lars barely craned his head to see that it was Steven. A tight smile crossed his face. Steven settled himself beside Lars, cross-legged and towering. In his hands he held two mugs and a thermos and merely gestured. Lars nodded.

The coffee chased the cold from him. It was nice, warm and comforting in a way the energy drinks from Ronaldo hadn’t been. And he wasn’t drinking out of spite. The taste of the coffee barely registered, but Lars thought it was perfect all the same, since it was brought by a friend.

They sipped and drank for a long time, just looking at the stars. When Lars drained his third cup and found nothing left in the thermos he ventured to finally speak. “So. How is everyone?”

Steven huffed. “No one’s mad at _you,_ Lars.”

“Still.”

A sigh. “Everyone is… dealing with it. There’s a lot of talking though, and a lot of opening up about mom that never happened before. So, that’s a thing. But I don’t think things will be normal for a while.”

“Sorry.” Lars stared at his mug.

Steven just shrugged. “Not your fault.”

Silence, and then, “Hey, Lars?”

“Yeah?”

“You think mom went to Heaven?” Steven turned his body slightly to look at Lars with frightening sincerity.

Lars’ face dropped. “You know I don’t believe in Heaven, Steven.”

“I know that!” Steven snapped, and then grew quiet when Lars winced. “I guess, I just mean… Was she a good person?”

Lars picked at the cuticles of his thumb. “I don’t know, Steven. She was thousands of years old, and I’m just a dumb twenty three year old who still hasn’t figured out how life works. I don’t think I can be the judge.”

“Was she good to you though? You got to spend twenty four hours with her! That’s more time than I’ll ever get! And everything is too complicated with the gems.”

For a long second Lars considered lying to Steven. But he deserved better than that. “No. I was terrible to her, and she was terrible to me. I mean we apologized for hurting each other, but I don’t think either of us really liked the other at the end of the day.”

Steven looked crestfallen.

“But,” Lars amended. “The whole time I was running around this stupid city, and breaking her heart over and over again, she never stopped wanting to see you, y’know. Damn stubborn gem. She… she,” Lars voice faded, small and choked with emotion. Steven let him have his pride and finish his sentence speaking to his mug. “She really loved you. Even without having met you. Even when you said you might hate her. I love Sadie. But I hope I can love her that much someday, too.”

“Thanks, Lars. For everything.” Steven knew he didn’t have to explain what he meant.

Sometime later, before sleep could take either of them, Lars murmured, “So, are we okay?”

“I don’t know,” Steven admitted back quietly. “But we have plenty of time, don’t we?”

“We certainly do,” Lars agreed.

Exhaustion took them both, and they sank into the melody of sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Merry Christmas! If you don't celebrate Christmas, happy (insert your holiday here) and if you don't celebrate anything, happy Monday! 
> 
> Here it is, the last chapter, the end. It's not much but I felt like the story needed an end cap to show everyone is coping with the events of the story. I didn't do Steven's birthday party because I think those details are much better left to the imagination. 
> 
> Some fun facts about this fic: it's 72, 551 words, according to my word processor. Which is fairly close to the word count of the first Harry Potter novel! I started it on June 6, 2017, and finished it on December 22, 2017. It's my longest fanfic ever of any fandom I've ever written for, and one of the few non-oneshots that I've completed. 
> 
> A large part of me is sad to be done this fic, but there's also a small part of me screaming "I'm free!", hehe. 
> 
> As for what's next? Enjoying the rest of my holiday and working on a ship fic I started months ago. I'll be taking some time out to write more original works of my own, but I did have an idea for a sort of sequel set in this same universe about Lars. So, basically, I'll be around, reading other fics, and commenting, maybe drive by kudoing or bookmarking, but am taking a break from writing heavy SU fanfics for just a bit. 
> 
> And lastly is the thanks! I want to thank everyone who read, commented, left kudos, subscribed and bookmarked! THANK YOU! Seriously, thank you, every single one of you, from those who have been following this fic from day one, to those who just got here. This fic ballooned and grew immensely from what I originally conceived and it was all of you that inspired me to keep writing it. Thank you so much! Leave a comment if you please.

**Author's Note:**

> The magic is a little handwavey here I'll admit, but I really wanted Rose to get to the future and how she does it isn't the point of the fic. This fic will probably have short chapters, and I'm hoping to update once a week but we'll see. This isn't my best fic, but it's a fun self-indulgent little thing I feel like doing in between the other fics I'm writing. They'll probably be more tags added as I go. Anyways, thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed, feel free to critique and comment! 
> 
> Next chapter: Rose meets Lars in the future!


End file.
